Life, Lies and Video Surveillance
by Cortexikid
Summary: "Thank you for the perfect end to a not so perfect day, Kens," he whispered, before brushing his lips to the edge of her mouth, smiling when she shifted a little so she could press her lips against his. "You're welcome," she whispered back as they broke the kiss, "but there's more..." Deeks' eyebrows shot up. "More you say?" he asked, his heart-rate quickening. WOTD: Inamorato
1. Flaxen

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance **

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 1: Flaxen**

**A/N: Hi guys! So, after the overwhelming overnight response (reviews, faves and alerts - I'm over the moon) to my first ever Densi fic, I have been inspired to engage in another one of my favourite writing activities (one I've yet to tackle) the 'Word Of The Day.' So, without further ado, I give you the first word (which was scarily fitting) hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Neither I nor my doppelganger in the other universe owns NCIS: Los Angeles. (Bad Fringe Reference is Bad!)**

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**WOTD: FLAXEN; **_**adj. **_**Made of or resembling flax. Having the pale grayish-yellow colour of flax fibre**

"Is it 'cause I'm blond?"

"What?"

"You seem to have a natural aggression towards blondes."

"No Deeks, I just have a natural aggression towards you."

Deeks groaned and slapped a palm to his chest, feigning pain.

"Oh partner how you wound me!"

Kensi rolled her eyes at her partner's melodramatic movements, heaving a sigh and looking back through her binoculars. They had been on a two-day stake-out and really, was the universe plotting against her? Two whole days trapped in a small space with none other than Marty Frickin' Deeks?

"'C'mon Kens, don't go quiet on me now..."

That received another eye-roll. Maybe she'd talk more if she could get a word in edge-wise. The last four hours had been a constant stream of consciousness from the flaxen-haired, scruffy-faced Detective. She now knew his favourite TV show, his opinion on cat-people and his objections against what Sam and Callen affectionately call his 'stoner look.'

"Kens! Don't leave me hangin' here..."

Heaving what felt like the millionth sigh in the space of fifteen minutes, Kensi put down the binoculars on the dashboard, keeping the audio device in place and turned to look at her partner.

"Why do you get to say I'm not your type, but when I do the same to you, you throw a tantrum?"

"Because I'm adorable," he replied, not missing a beat, a beaming smile breaking out onto his face as she smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand.

"Yeah, well, you're not...my type I mean."

"But I am adorable?"

"Deeks!"

"What?"

Silence fell between the two as Kensi gaped at him and Deeks winked at her. She knew this was a bad idea as soon as Callen suggested that they sit on the prime suspect while he and Sam chased down other leads. Yes, after over two years she was well used to her partner, but still, this was pure Deeks overload...and she couldn't decide how she felt about it.

"You're just not my type Deeks...get over it," she sniped, feigning irritation.

"Oh Kensi, your lips say no, no, but your knees say yes, yes!" Deeks grinned, donning an atrocious fake French accent. It was even worse than his half Jack Sparrow – half Mary Poppins English accent. Kensi grimaced on behalf of France and all its inhabitants.

"My knees?" she asked, a frown creasing her eyebrows. Sometimes, Deeks just confused the hell outta her.

"They're angled towards me."

There was another beat of silence as his words washed over her. Looking down, she studied her seating position and realized that her knees were indeed angled towards him, along with the rest of her body. But what the hell had that to do with anything?

"So?" she grumbled, biting her lip and dreading his answer.

"Well, according to many body language experts, if a person angles their feet and knees in your direction it is a non-verbal sign that they want to do the horizontal tango with you," he stated matter-of-factly, a smug smirk ever present on his face.

"And you call me Wikipedia?"

"You may tease Fern, but it is a widely known fact."

"Not that widely. And for your information, I'm sitting like this because it's easiest to get a good look through the window. Not because I wanna do the horizontal mambo with you."

"Tango."

"Whatever. I don't wanna do any kind of dance with you."

Deeks laughed and shook his head, picking up the binoculars and leaning over so much that he was a mere inch from Kensi's face. Kensi in turn, fought the urge to edge ever so slightly closer, grimacing as a familiar heat low in her stomach began its usual flare and her pulse picked up speed. Damn that blond bastard!

"Humm...I don't know Kens, this isn't the best angle..." he trailed off, the two of them letting the silence seep in between them. He all the while ignoring her sweet and intoxicating scent as she disregarded how the sunshine perfectly illuminated his messy golden locks.

This was her life now. And his too. Stake-outs and four-hour conversations about nothing and not-so-subtle flirting and a couple of kick-ass fire-fights in between.

And she wouldn't change it for the world...

Neither would he.

**A/N: So, one down and an indecipherable amount still to come! I really have no idea how long this is going to be but I'm gonna try to get one done each day (of all different lengths) for the foreseeable future =] Reviews are lovely!**

**Feel free to submit a word you want me to write about. The weirder the better! =]**

**~Cortexikid**


	2. Cognomen

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance **

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 2: Cognomen **

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews, alerts & faves guys, I'm chuffed! So, here's the next word – a perfect excuse to bring in another massive obsession of mine HAWAII FIVE-0 (McDanno FTW) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Neither NCIS: Los Angeles nor Hawaii Five-0 is mine. Epic sad face =[**

**SPOILERS: For Hawaii Five-0 Season 2 Finale "Ua Hala." And mere speculation of possible Season 3 plot-points for H50 and Season 4 plot-points for NCIS:LA.**

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**WOTD: COGNOMEN; ****cog·no·men **_**noun**__**. **_**A person's name, nickname or alias **

"So, who was that?"

"What?"

"On the phone? Who was it?"

Kensi smirks and rolls her eyes. He has been like this for a couple of days now, ever since a certain Sergeant Detective from the Five-0 taskforce got back in touch with OSP. Apparently, now that their illustrious leader Steve McGarrett has returned to the island, the proverbial shit has hit the fan, so much so that they were cashing in favours left, right and centre. Hetty heard it through her multiple covert connections that Lieutenant Kelly's wife Malia and cousin Kono were targeted by a dirty cop, a dirt-bag named Delano. Thankfully, neither attack was fatal on either woman. It has come to light that Delano is now suspected of working in close connection with ex-Marines. He and his associates are now in the wind so, Danny, being the good Detective that he is, contacted NCIS: OSP to try and get any possible hits on any of the ex-marines that may be classified to other law enforcement agencies. As far as Kensi knows, at the moment, Nell and Eric are coming up empty.

"Was it Danno?" Deeks asks, a hint of _something _in his tone as he watches Kensi, his jaw set, waiting impatiently for her response.

"How did you know his nickname was Danno anyway?" Kensi ponders, thinking back to when he first said it all those months ago, teasing her about her so-called 'pheromone spreading' – and tactfully avoiding his question, of course.

"Heard him say 'Danno loves you' to his little girl on one of his many phone calls," Deeks responds, tilting his head to the side and squinting as he continues, "how did you know?"

Kensi can't possibly stop the small smile that graces her face as she thinks back to her first visit to Hawaii, when she met Joe White and McGarrett to help him with the surveillance tape of his father and the previous Governor.

"Before I met McGarrett, White told me a few things about him, and his partner. Apparently, White endured a lot of bickering between the pair and calling Danny 'Danno' seems to be a favourite of McGarrett's...they both sound adorable really..." she trails off, biting her lip to engulf a laugh that threatens to erupt from her as she sees Deeks' expression darken.

"Yeah, well, we're adorable..." Deeks grumbles, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair.

"Are we?"

"Yep. And, we've been partners longer than them, or at least as long."

"So?"

"You don't have a cutesy nickname for me...Fern."

Kensi laughs at his tone. He really seems upset about this. Like he is jealous of a partnership that he has never really had the chance to observe up close (yet) and really has only heard the apparent 'legendary' stories through the grapevine. The Special Agent has to admit though; she is excited about the return of Hawaii's finest to Los Angeles, this time with Lieutenant Commander McGarrett and Officer Kalakaua in toe, she just wishes it were under better circumstances. They did owe Williams and Kelly a beer after all...and will most definitely spring some for McGarrett and Kalakaua too.

"Hey Fern, you still with me?" Deeks called, waving a hand in front of her face.

Kensi snaps out of her reverie and stares back at her partner from where he sits beside her, at her and Callen's desk.

"Fern is a terrible name."

"So is Danno."

"I think it's cute."

Deeks scowls and looks away from her as Kensi pokes him in the shoulder, hard.

"You mean you think he's cute..." the scruffy-bearded blond murmurs, rubbing his arm where she harshly poked him. Kensi looks away quickly, hiding her smile as she pretends to begin a new report.

"You jealous Deeks?"

Deeks snorts loudly, obscenely so. It reminds her of her maniacal laughter when she's nervous or when he catches her in a lie.

"Jealous? Me? No! What would I have to be jealous of exactly? A pint-sized Jersey-native that Hetty thinks is 'cheeky'? I think not..."

"Oh right, it's just, you kinda sound jealous," she teases, resting her chin in her palm as Deeks finally turns back around to look at her.

"Nope. Not jealous. Just...I thought you didn't like blonds?"

"When did I ever say that?"

"You said I wasn't your type—"

"I didn't realize you were the only blond in the world Deeks..."

"Maybe not, but I am the hottest."

"Your modesty is astounding."

"And don't you forget it."

The partners both smile at one another before Kensi is distracted by her booming message alert tone. She can feel Deeks' body stiffen next to her as she takes out her phone and glances down at the text, a tiny grin on her face.

"Who...who is it?" he attentively asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh no one Deeks...just my date for tonight," she replies sassily before standing up and walking away without a backwards glance.

Deeks' cerulean gaze burns into her back, causing a little chuckle to erupt from her lips as she makes her way to Hetty's office. It was only Eric that text (and called earlier to update her on the case) now to tell her to meet Hetty in her office after all, not a hot date, or one of five-0's finest Detectives, but she wasn't gonna tell her partner that. It was just too fun to watch him squirm.

**A/N: Second chapter in one day - I know, I know, but it won't be a regular thing, unfortunately. Hope you liked this instalment, I am planning sort-of-sequels that will crop up every now and again throughout the (what I aim to be) rather large series. I just love the idea of McGarrett and Danno rivalling both Sam and Callen's bromance and Kensi and Deeks' 'thing.' =]**

**A review would be lovely =]**

**~Cortexikid**


	3. Diffibulate

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance **

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 3: Diffibulate **

**A/N: Thanks again for all the alerts etc. I'm forever in your debt =] Time for some Densi fun-times, just not in the way you think ;-) Inspired by the 3x12 episode "The Watchers."**

**DISCLAIMER: Last time I checked, I was neither male nor named Shane Brennan so...nope, NCIS:LA still isn't mine =[**

**WARNING READERS: Strong T-Rating for this chapter. Nothing too explicit, it's all pretty suggested not obvious but warning just in case...**

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**WOTD: DIFFIBULATE; ****di·ffib·u·late **_**verb**_**. To unbutton, to unbuckle**

"Oh yeah...right...right there," came the groan, little tufts of air tickling her ear.

"You like that?" she cooed seductively, dragging her nails down the front of his shirt, digging them in hard enough that he could feel the scratch down his chest, through the material.

"Um...humm..." he murmured, his eyelids hooded and heavy as she forced a giggle worthy of a porn-star, her fingers draping over his belt buckle.

"Well, you just sit back and relax," she half-whispered as he did what he was told, "and let me...take care of you..." she trailed off, nimble fingers opening his belt.

"Oh god..." he moaned, arching up off the couch as Kensi nipped at his jaw, her hands throwing his belt aside.

"Give it to him good Kens..." an all-too-familiar voice suddenly sounded in her ear, catching her attention and stilling her movements.

"Something...wrong...?" her late-night companion asked, noticing her now rigid body.

"Uh...no, no, nothing," she assured him with a peck on the side of his neck, getting another satisfied groan in response.

"You're a naughty girl Fern..." the voice continued, mirth evident in its tone.

"Ugh Deeks!" she whispered harshly under her breath, realizing too late that she said it out-loud. Her eyes quickly snapped to her pseudo-lover, looking for any sign that he heard her. Apparently, he did, as he sat bolt upright and stared silently at Kensi, confusion written across his semi-handsome face.

"Did you just moan my name?"

The voice raised an octave higher in her ear, but before she could respond, the blond-haired, blue-eyed man sitting in front of her cocked his head to the side and folded his arms, scarily resembling another blonde haired, blued eyed man she knew all too well. Why did every guy she had to do this with remind her so much of her partner?

"Who's Deeks?"

The doppelganger asked, his jaw set. The room plunged into silence. Kensi's brain scrambled for something, anything to say.

"Oh my God you did! You moaned my name when having Kensi private-time with a cheap lookalike of yours truly!"

"Uh..." Kensi murmured, looking around the room desperately as if somewhere in the large, pristine room there held a solution to this incredible awkward and slightly dangerous situation. Then it hit her, a plan began forming in her mind.

"Uh no, no I didn't say Deeks, Ethan...I—I said reeks...I uh...reek of cigarettes and it's uh...a little distracting. Would you mind if I...freshened up a little? Maybe you could...wait for me in the bedroom?" she smiled her most ravishing smile – worthy of a damn siren before offering him a wink and popping open another button on her blouse for good measure.

"Ooh, nice save!" Deeks' praises her and seriously, Kensi is going to frickin' kick him somewhere painful...maybe not his balls but definitely his ass.

"Uh, okay love-bug, I'll be waiting..." Ethan replied, returning her ravish grin before standing up and pecking her on the cheek and walking out of the room.

"Love-bug? Really?" Deeks laughed and the eye-roll that accompanied said-laugh was practically heard too.

"Can't be any worse than Sugar Bear!" Kensi hissed as harshly and as quietly as she could, storming straight over to the laptop and plugging in the USB to download the files.

"Well Love-bug, you better be quick, something tells me lover-boy won't last much longer..."

"Speaking from experience Deeks?" she quipped, hardly sustaining a chuckle at his squawk of indignation.

"Excuse me; I'll have you know my prowess is legendary! Much better than your faux-Deeks—"

"Oh please, he's nothing like you! For one, he's polite, not cocky—"

"Oh I'm sure he's very cocky now..." Deeks fired off without missing a beat.

"He's attentive, having more than a one-track mind and most obviously he's filthy rich...unlike you, who is just filthy," she finished with a dignified tap of the enter key as the download finished.

"Gee Kens, why don't you just marry the guy?" Deeks grumbles, sounding much less sure of himself, the mirth noticeably missing from his tone now.

"Oh, I don't know Deeks, maybe because he's a weapons-smuggler?" Kensi deadpanned, slipping the USB back into her purse and straightening up, her sensitive ears perking up, searching for any disturbance.

"Yeah that, and nothing beats the original, sweetheart."

"What did you just call me?" the agent scolded quietly as she tip-toed towards Ethan's bedroom, fluffing up her hair and picking up her discarded shoes off the floor.

"Kensi, ignore him, and get outta there," Callen interrupted, the smile in his voice evident.

It was funny really. Sometimes, when it was just her and Deeks bickering back and forth over the coms (even when she was in the middle of a goddamn op) Kensi forgot that Callen and Sam could hear everything too. She'd be doing her job for far too long now to get embarrassed at having an audience when she occasionally had to have faux-sexy-times but when Deeks joined the team...knowing he was there too, that he could hear everything too, did something strange to her stomach. It made her pulse quicken slightly, her breath hitch a little.

And when he interrupted with his smart remarks right in her ear? Yeah, sure, it pissed her off but mostly? It soothed her. It made her feel less alone in crappy situations like these, when she had to make nicey-nice and get up close and personal (or as personal as an undercover agent could get) with a scum-bag like Ethan Daniels. But she'd never tell him that. The smug bastard would only be compelled to do it more often and make his comments more...controversial. And for professionalism's sake (and her sanity), Kensi Blye just couldn't have that...even if sometimes, she craved it so.

"Yeah, come on, shake that tail, hurry up and come back to your hubby...Sugar Bear..." her partner murmured, his sultry tone not muffling the teasing laughter of Callen and Sam.

Alright, that was it, the straw that broke Kensi's back. Deeks was definitely getting a kick in the ass!

**A/N: So, fun right? A more personal chapter is up next, a little less light-hearted banter and a little more serious heart-to-heart between partners. But, don't worry, this is still Densi...witty banter is never too far away! =]**

**A review would be greatly appreciated =]**

**~Ck**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"_**Hello again, Mrs Feldman."**_

"_**Well, if it isn't my favourite LAPD Detective," Julia Feldman smiled as she saw her daughter's partner standing at her door, looking sheepish and every bit as awkward as the first day she met him.**_


	4. Odam

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 4: Odam**

**A/N: So this is the "Oh damn!" chapter =] See what I did there? Ha, ha. *Crickets* Yeah okay, not my best, but I promise, the chapter itself is better than my sad excuse for comedy. I swear! *Shifty eyes* Hints of season 3 episodes "Blye, K" part 1 & 2.**

**Disclaimer: Just checked the funds and...yep...still a broke college student. So, clearly I don't own the 'second best rated-show on television.' Le sigh.**

**NOTE: Thoughts are in **_**italics**_**.**

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**WOTD: ****ODAM; o****·****dam, **_**noun.**_** A son-in-law**

Deeks scuffed his feet on the pavement and rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he stood outside in the familiar cul-de-sac, the beautiful mid-summer's day sun beaming down on him. Quickly, before he could talk himself out of it, he reached up and rapped on the door, standing up straight and lacing his hands behind his back.

After a moment he saw a colourful silhouette through the glass and planted a soft smile on his face as the door opened to reveal a middle-aged, brown-haired woman.

"Hello again, Mrs Feldman."

"Well, if it isn't my favourite LAPD Detective," Julia Feldman smiled as she saw her daughter's partner standing at her door, looking sheepish and every bit as awkward as the first day she met him.

"Uh, hi Mrs—"

"Julia, please..." she waved off the title, opening the door a little more and waiting patiently for the cop to continue. After another beat of silence she asked, "I take it you're here to see my daughter?"

Deeks' head snapped up at that and suddenly he seemed far less nervous, a determined gleam in his baby-blue eyes.

"She—she's definitely here then?" he asked, his voice still a little uncertain, his gaze bypassing Julia's head and into the house, as if his partner would miraculously appear out of thin air in the hallway.

"Because I checked all the other places she could possibly be. Her apartment, her favourite spot down by the beach, the gun range, the ice-cream parlour, that burger place she thinks I don't know about—" he broke off, realizing he was rambling and more than likely making a bigger fool of himself than usual. Not a good thing to do around Kensi Blye's mother of all people.

"And this was your last stop?" Julia enquired, teasing him.

"Uh, no actually but I—I didn't wanna intrude on...anything, I know how much this day uh...how much it affects Kensi and surely you too and I...I just wanted to make sure she's okay..." Deeks almost grimaced as he trailed off, realizing how pathetic that just sounded_. Is this how guys feel when they pick up their dates for Prom?_ _Shit._ _Why am I here again?_

"That's very sweet of you Detective Deeks, come on in...she's out in the backyard," Julia motioned him in and lead him down the hall, into the kitchen where French doors were visible. Deeks gazed out those doors and could see in the distance, the outline of a slender woman with brown hair gleaming softly in the sunlight, sitting on a swing, her head tilted down. _She is why I'm here._

The detective's steps faltered at the sight, a niggling bout of fear seeping into his veins – fear, not for himself, but for his partner and what she could be feeling...what she would feel if he just showed up and intruded on such an important day.

Suddenly, there was pressure on his upper arm and his eyes cast down quickly to see Julia's hand there, squeezing his arm gently.

"Go ahead Detective...she'll be happy to see you," she smiled, patting him lightly on back, gently pushing him closer to the door. Deeks grinned softly back, nodding his head as if mentally psyching himself up for a confrontation that may or may not happen.

"Thanks Mrs Feldman."

"Really Detective, please, call me Julia..."

"Only if you call me Marty...or Deeks, most people call me Deeks," he grumbled, feeling a little unsure of himself again.

"Okay...Marty," she shook her head and rolled her eyes in such a way that reminded him strikingly of his partner – which brought his attention back to the garden.

"Go on, talk to her...she won't bite," Julia murmured, before stepping away and sauntering into the kitchen.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Deeks muttered to himself before pulling the door open and making his way quietly down the garden path that led to the swings. Even with his near-silent footfalls, he knew that his partner had ears like a bat (literally, he once joked and got a punch in the shoulder for his trouble) and certainly heard his arrival. She didn't tense up any though, so he took that as a good sign and stopped a few feet from her.

"Found you..." he murmured, feeling if these were different circumstances, it could have been all an elaborate game of Hide 'n' Seek. Silently, he waited to see if she would look up. Now that he was closer, he could see why her head was down. She was reading from a little book – a handwritten journal of some sort, that was sitting on her lap, her fingers clasped tightly around it.

"I wasn't hiding..." she mumbled, her head still lowered, her eyes unmoving as she stared down blankly at one of the pages.

Deeks merely nodded, a sense of discomfort seeping into his veins for a moment before a little voice (that sounded not unlike Kensi herself) reassured him that _this is Kensi, your partner of three years now, you can do this, she would for you._

"Can I...sit down?"

A beat of silence passed before there was an ever-so-slight nod of her head. Thankfully, that was all Deeks needed. Slowly, he took those last few steps and lowered himself down on the empty swing next to her. A few quiet moments went by as the two partners sat on the swings, one with her head still downwards, the other looking straight up at the bright blue sky above them, his feet scuffing the ground softly as he swayed back and forth, back and forth...

"I think my mom has a crush on you."

If that didn't spit him out of his reverie, nothing ever would.

"W-What? Really?"

Cerulean eyes met a mismatched brown, Kensi's head finally upright; her gaze meeting her partner's unabashedly, the small book now lying closed on her lap.

"Yep," she smirked, "you should hear her, Detective Deeks this, Detective Deeks that, you must have made one good first impression."

He couldn't decipher what it was exactly that was in her voice as she said this. Teasing he could definitely make out, embarrassment too, but there was just something...else there also, something he couldn't quite put his finger on...

"Well, I guess that's what happens when you meet someone who could possibly lead you to your long lost daughter..." he trailed off, not really knowing what else he should say, the overwhelming urge to apologize engulfing him for some reason.

"Yeah...that and you're, oh what did you say? Oh yeah, adorable," she deadpanned, not missing a beat.

Deeks chuckled softly at that. There was the Kensi he knew and lov—liked.

"Nice swing set," he murmured, feeling a change in topic was needed – more so for his sake than for hers. A soft smile broke out on her face as she cast a glance around herself, before finally reaching his eyes once more.

"I loved playing on swings as a kid...they always made me feel so...carefree, invincible when I soared through the sky and jumped off and came crashing back to earth..."

Deeks could picture it so clearly. A spirited, fearless, eight-year-old Kensi, donned in pig-tails and a 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle' t-shirt, so kick-ass even then, jumping off swing-sets without a second's thought and beating all the boys at leaping the furthest. _That's my girl_, he thought warmly before he could scold himself.

"I asked my mom about this one, when I first came out here. I—I thought that maybe she...had another kid but...she said that she got bought them when she first moved here...just in case I came back."

He didn't need to be a detective to pick up on the regret, sadness and sense of loss that began to seep into his partner's voice. He knew she was berating herself for never giving her mother a chance to explain, for wasting all those years holding on to an anger that really wasn't there anymore...he had to stop her from going down that path.

"And you did...come back," he mumbled softly, aching to reach out to her but controlling himself as she began to swing softly, catching up with his rhythm.

"Yeah," she half-whispered, resting her cheek against the chain, her stare tilted towards him. The two lapsed into a comfortable silence then; all that was audible was the slight creaking of the swings moving back and forth together.

The partners stayed there for a long time, right until the sun long disappeared behind the clouds and the sky darkened, evening setting in and the sound of near-by children disappearing indoors.

It was then that Deeks saw Kensi shiver slightly, but before he could suggest going inside (or offering her his jacket) she spoke softly.

"Thank you Deeks...for coming today...it means—" she broke off for a moment, her eyes downcast, before finishing quietly, "thank you..."

Still not looking at him, she reached out and rested her hand lightly on his, their swinging slowing down to a halt as he laced his fingers with hers.

"You're welcome partner..." he replied, finally catching her eye and holding her gaze for a minute, hour, forever.

Across the garden and looking out of the glass door, stood Julia Feldman, a soft, pleased smile gracing her face.

She knew the day she met Detective Marty Deeks that he was just what her daughter needed in a co-worker and friend and...dare she hope, one day, he would be Kensi's partner in every sense of the word.

**A/N: So, it's like 03:11am (GMT) as I post this – I literally had to stop myself all day from posting this (I finished it last night) but I really am trying to stick to my rule of just one chapter a day...even though now I've finished 5, 6 & 7 (I'm sick and have no life at the moment) and am working on chapter 8 :-/ I still can't spoil you guys too much. Hope you liked it! It was fun to write a little more seriously...if that makes sense ha, ha! =]**

**Please Review – it would mean the world to me =]**

**~Cortexikid**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"_**What?" Kensi spluttered, accidentally spitting at him as she took an impressively large mouthful of the sweet-tasting delight.**_

_**Deeks grimaced, hand reaching up to wipe off the flecks of ice-cream she just spat at him from off his forehead.**_


	5. Lambition

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance **

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 5: Lambition **

**A/N: So this chapter is a little shorter than the others but they're not all gonna be of equal length, some will be epic, some tiny, some in between...hope that's okay! **

**Disclaimer: Deeks is not mine...but wow, do I wish he was! Kensi isn't mine either. Or NCIS: LA in general. Sob.**

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**WOTD: LAMBITION; lam****·****bit****·****ion **_**noun**_**. Act of licking or lapping.**

"You've got some face on your ice-cream," Deeks said suddenly, lapping at his own ice-cream cone heartily, not bothering to savour the last morsels of it, opting to instead scarp down the remains in one smooth bite.

"What?" Kensi spluttered, accidentally spitting at him as she took an impressively large mouthful of the sweet-tasting delight.

Deeks grimaced as he chewed, hand reaching up to wipe off the flecks of ice-cream she just spat at him from off his forehead.

"I said," he murmured, swallowing before continuing, "you've got some face on your ice-cream, you know, seeing as there's more ice-cream than skin going on there," the detective smirked, pointing to her general vicinity that was indeed, largely covered by flecks of vanilla and multi-coloured sprinkles. Face, clothes and...her hair, if his eyes didn't deceive him.

"Out of the two of us I have to say, I would never have pegged you as the messy eater..." he laughed as his partner frantically wiped at her face with a napkin.

"Yeah well, it's hot in here and it's melting all over me...it's so goddamn sticky—"

"That is the hottest thing you have ever said to me."

"Shut up Deeks!"

The blond had to bite his lip as he saw her pink tongue edge out and lick jovially at the cone before disappearing back into her mouth, a soft hum of approval escaping her lips. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was doing this on purpose – hell, what was he thinking? Of course he knew better!

Before he could call her bluff however, something caught the detective's attention. One tantalising drop of melted ice-cream trailed from the corner of her mouth, inching slowly down towards her chin. His body on autopilot, his brain not knowing what he was doing, Deeks reached out and caught the droplet with the pad of his thumb, wiping it softly away from Kensi's jaw. The brunette's dark eyes widened, her lips parting a little in silent question.

Stillness swallowed the partners as they stared at one another, neither gaze wavering from the other as Deeks' thumb gently moved away from her.

"I—" the shrill sound of a ringtone interrupted whatever the LAPD liaison was going to say and internally both he and his partner heaved a sigh of relief. Because really? What could he possibly say and what could she do in response? Scold him? Hit him? Kiss—no.

"Yeah, uh...Eric," Kensi mumbled into her phone, "yeah, okay...sure," she finished before hanging up, staring straight ahead.

"That—that was ops, gotta get back, there was a break in the case," she told Deeks, her eyes still not meeting his. "Just uh...give me a sec—" and like that she was out of the car like a bat outta hell, her rapidly melting dessert in hand.

The detective sat there, gaping at her retreating back, still a little stunned by the exchange and barely contained a grin as he saw her inharmoniously dump whatever was left of her treat in a trash can across the street, before jogging back over to the car.

He made sure not to stare too intently as she climbed back into the driver's seat and started the ignition – apparently it was one of those days where they actively ignored their 'thing' and really, during moments like this, that was fine by him. For now.

But as they made their way back to Ops, Kensi's ridiculous Techno music blaring from the speakers, one thing Marty Deeks knew for sure, he was never more jealous of a dessert in his entire life.

**A/N: So this was just a short and silly thing – hope you liked anyway! Because of its shortness I will probably upload the next chapter before tomorrow. I just can't wait to get to chapter 7, 8 & 9 - my three-shot series =]**

**Please review =] ~Ck**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"_**No way can surfer boy here actually cook."**_

"_**I'll have you know Sam; I am a culinary genius..." Deeks replied, looking sideways at the man he begrudgingly had to share a desk with.**_

_**Sam and Callen shared a look before simultaneously snorting their disbelief.**_


	6. Satiate

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 6: Satiate **

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to ****SunnyCitrus10**** who suggested the word for this chapter. Thanks so much! Hope I did it justice! =]**

**A little pre-Densi is in order I think... =]**

* * *

**WOTD: SATIATE; ****sa·ti·ate **_**adj**_**. To satisfy (an appetite or desire) fully. **

"No way can surfer boy here actually cook."

"I'll have you know Sam; I am a culinary genius..."Deeks replied, looking sideways at the man he begrudgingly had to share a desk with.

Sam and Callen shared a look before simultaneously snorting their disbelief.

"What? I am! Tell them Kensi!" Deeks haughtily demanded, waving his hand dramatically in his partner's direction as she smirked over at him from across her desk.

"Tell them what? I thought you were a frozen pizza pocket kinda guy?"

"I am. Luckily, I'm easily pleased. That doesn't mean I can't spruce up a lady's meal though," he grinned, winking at Kensi who grimaced.

"Why do I get the feeling he doesn't mean the food?" Nell asked, sauntering in and shrugging on her jacket.

"Because I don't. When I say 'spruce' I really mean—"

"You ready?" Nell interrupted Deeks pointedly, turning to Kensi, a nervous smile on her face.

"You bet," Kensi grinned back, standing up and grabbing her bag.

"Where...where are you ladies off to?" her partner enquired, a frown line forming between his eyebrows.

Nell and Kensi shared a look before the intelligence-analyst shrugged and muttered, "I'll uh...wait for you outside."

Sam and Callen took the hint and made themselves scarce too, scrambling to follow her, Kensi rolling her eyes at their retreat.

"Cowards," she grumbled to herself as her partner stood up to lean against his desk, his ankles crossed, arms folded, his gaze unwavering.

"Don't look at me like that," she faux-glared, mirroring him, arms across her chest.

"Like what?" he asked, sounding no-where-near as innocent as he thought.

"I'm not telling you where Nell and I are going. Boundaries, Deeks."

Deeks snorted.

"Okay Kens, if you're too embarrassed to tell me—"

"I'm not embarrassed—"

"Using 'boundaries' as an excuse is pretty lame. I mean, what could possibly be bad enough to—"

"I'm going on a double date alright?"

Deeks gaped at her. Kensi mentally scolded herself at her lack-of-control when it came to her partner's jibes. He was getting to her too easily these days.

"You and Nell are hooking up with some guys?"

"No Deeks, me and Nell are secretly dating and are hooking up with two friends from college," Kensi replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Sounds hot."

"Deeks!"

"Eric will be unbearable though. Last time Nell had a date he was PNSing for a week."

"PNSing?" Kensi grumbled, weary of his response.

"Post-Nell-Syndrome. He gets moody and comfort eats every time he even gets a whiff that our favourite little analyst is on the hunt for a geek-connection," Deeks smirked.

"Reminds me of another blond I know when he can't catch the 'perfect wave'," Kensi laughed, tilting her head at him.

"Excuse me, I don't do moody. And which one of us here has the junk-food problem?"

"It's not a problem—"

"Spoken like a true chocoholic."

Kensi glared at him, throwing her arms up in frustration. Why did he always have to distract her with his stupid little conversations? Chancing a glance at her watch, the NCIS agent groaned, she was running late.

"I'm late. I gotta go...night Deeks," she began to walk away.

"If you get bored Kens, my door is always open," he called after her, a smile lacing his tone.

"You might wanna rethink that if you don't wanna get robbed," Kensi yelled without turning around – a spring in her step.

"Ha, ha," Deeks grumbled quietly, his face falling slowly into a frown as he watched he leave.

* * *

Deeks pulled a t-shirt over his damp head as he scuffled into his living room, freshly showered and planning to spend the rest of evening sat sprawled out on his couch. Throwing the towel over the back of the arm chair, he heaved a sigh and plonked down onto the couch, grinning as he saw his canine companion eye him hopefully.

"Monty—here boy!" Deeks called his faithful cohort, patting the space beside him. The excitable dog's ears pricked up alertly before he bounded over and jumped up onto his master's lap.

"Oomph! Monty!" the detective groused, wincing at the heavy weight landing on him.

"What have I been feedin' you huh? No more doggy jerky for you buddy," he murmured, laughing as the dog began whining loudly as if he were well-aware that his favourite treat was being taken away from him.

"I'm sorry bud but—" Deeks' retort was interrupted by a sharp knock on his door.

With a confused frown, wondering who could be dropping by at this hour, he gently pushed away his canine friend, brushing off t-shirt and sweat-pants and muting the TV. Before he could step towards his door however, another bout of persistent knocking sounded loudly throughout the apartment. Shaking his head, he plodded over to it and looked through the key-hole, a small beam spreading across his face as he saw a familiar face. Quickly, he unlocked it, opening it wide and standing back.

"Well, well—"

"Men are pigs!"

Kensi Blye stormed into his apartment, an angry gleam in her eye, looking incredibly flustered.

"And hello to you too..."

Deeks closed the door with a snap, locking up and turning to face his partner –who was already perched on his couch with Monty's head planted firmly on her knee.

"Man's best friend my ass, try Special Agent's best friend," he faux-grumbled (as his heart warmed) at the sight of his partner and his so-called faithful companion cuddled up, one enjoying a scratch under the chin while the other heaved a sigh and drew her feet up to fold underneath her.

"So...you gonna elaborate on why men are pigs or am I gonna have to guess? 'Cause I tell ya Kens, I don't think my gender can handle that kinda betrayal," he smirked, shuffling his sock-clad feet over to the fridge, grabbing two beers and plodding over to the couch, holding one out for Kensi to take. When she did, he sat down and together they clinked their bottles in a silent toast.

After a long gulp, Kensi let out a sigh and flung her head back onto the couch, her eyes trained on the ceiling.

"Nell and I—we went on the double date, I wasn't really into the idea but she didn't wanna go alone – said something about her sister setting it up, so she asked come with her and he brought a friend too. Everything was goin' okay at first, the friend of Nell's date was a little forward for my taste but nothin' I couldn't handle until..." she trailed off, her eyes closing.

Dread rose in Deeks' chest.

"Until?" he prompted gently.

"Until he suggested over the appetisers that we change our 'two-some' into a 'four-some in every sense of the word.'"

Deeks' eyebrows shot up his forehead as he let out of soft whistle in surprise. The illustrious story of Spring Break, the handsome guy and Kensi's friend Monica spung to mind, but the detective quickly shoved it back down. This was different. It was a first date between strangers - two of them not even that comfortable with the situation, it was all kinds of wrong.

"Smooth talkin' for a first date," he grumbled sarcastically.

"I know right? But what made it worse was that Nell's date was all for it too. Said he liked to mix his tastes...sugar and spice and everything nice," she gritted, her jaw clenched, her deep seethed anger formidable.

Deeks' face darkened, furious that his partner and friend had to take that crap from such lowlifes.

"How's Nell?" he asked, concerned for the petite red-head.

Kensi sat forward, planting her feet on the floor, gulping down the last of her beer.

"Oh she's fine, said she wasn't that into him anyway...and dunked a pitcher of beer over both their heads for good measure," she grinned gleefully, as Deeks let out a snort of laughter.

"Always knew that girl was a firecracker," he murmured before a loud beeping caught his attention.

"Oh crap—I almost forgot," he leapt up off the couch and walked briskly to the kitchen, Kensi hot on his heels.

"What'cha cookin' Chef Ramsay?" she asked curiously, standing on her tip-toes to look over his shoulder, her eyes watching the oven with interest.

Deeks grabbed some over-mitts and opened the oven-door, a sweet smell wafting from it.

Kensi's stomach grumbled – loudly.

"Someone's hungry," he commented in his terrible English accent, before closing the door with his foot and placing the dish on to the counter. With his back turned to Kensi he blocked her view so she couldn't see what was in it – it was extremely frustrating.

"Come on Deeks, I didn't get to touch my hot-wings thanks to Captain Sleaze-bag. I'm starv—" her voice caught in her throat as Deeks suddenly whirled around and presented the most enticing, mouth-watering Banoffee Pie she'd seen in her entire life.

"Mr Culinary-Genius made dessert for dinner?" she gaped, biting her lip, her eyes bulging as they drank in the tasty-looking dessert.

"Oh don't judge. You're sugar-junkie, isn't this like a dream come true for you?" Deeks teased, cutting off a large piece and placing it on a plate.

"Pretty much," she replied, her gaze locked on him, sliding the plate her way and leaning over to pluck a fork from a drawer, her orbs never faltering from his face.

Perhaps it was the gleam in the eye, the tilt of her head or the tone of her voice, but something made Deeks' heart jump in his chest, his stomach coming alive with butterflies. Her words sounded so...so much more than just words. Her admission of a dessert being a dream-come-true sounded hollow, as if a double meaning was carefully hidden in place. A meaning that one Marty Deeks wasn't quite sure what to do about.

They were just having dinner (well, dessert) and sharing a beer after all, same as many nights before then. After this, they'd more than likely retreat back to the couch and he'd put on some mindless drivel they could make fun of and Kensi would kick off her shoes and fold her feet underneath her, her and Deeks' shoulders inches apart, Monty sitting dutifully between them – waiting impatiently for his scratch behind the ears. It would be the same as every other night...was the same as every other night.

Except, it didn't feel that way. Something felt...different about tonight. There was something just a little unusual in the ambience, a shift in the mood between them, which certainly was not a bad thing but was most definitely there. Something that wasn't ignored, but wasn't quite acknowledged either. Not yet.

Deeks met her eyes and threw her a soft smile – one which she returned whole-heartedly. Slowly, offered a fork to him and held up her own.

"To misguided idiots and culinary geniuses," she toasted, clinking her fork with his before digging her fork into the pie and bringing a hefty piece to her lips, practically cross-eyed as she stared down at it in wonder.

"You haven't tasted it yet..." Deeks warned with a smirk before taking his own bite, eyes trained on Kensi as she did the same.

"So...how is it?" Deeks asked, a satisfied grin spreading across his stubbed face as he watched his partner's eyes close and savour the morsel as if it were her last meal.

Damn. He _was_ good. Sam could kiss his ass!

"It's...perfect..." she murmured, her eyes opening and catching his, their gaze lingering for a moment – silent words passing between them.

And it was perfect. The meal, the atmosphere, but most of all, the company...neither would change a thing.

Life was good.

**A/N: Next up is a 3-chapter-long monster which revolves around Kensi being attacked and dosed with a drug and a very concerned team – especially Deeks. Yay for Kensi whumpage and worried!Deeks.**

**PLEASE REVIEW =]**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"_**Kensi...Kensi! Hey, stay with me..." a large, soft palm cupped her cheek, shaking her gently.**_

"_**Sam, Callen, Kensi's down! She's been injected with whatever was in that syringe; we gotta get her to a hospital now!" Deeks yelled frenetically, bringing his right hand to cup Kensi's other cheek, holding her head steady, staring intently at her.**_

"_**Hey, hey Kens...look at me! Come on partner, come on, open your eyes, stay with me!"**_


	7. Dwang Part I

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 7: Dwang (Part I)**

**IMPORTANT NOTICE!: **

**This chapter is actually a ****PREQUEL**** to my other Densi one-shot story "Partners In Crime Fighting" under the "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" section. While it is not necessary to read that too I would recommend it =] This could also be considered a continuation on the previous chapter "Diffibulate." **

**A/N: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to **_**lisbonloafers**_** whose idea it was to expand on this plotline from my other story. Thank you! I hope you (and everyone else) like it =] **

**Disclaimer: NCIS: LA – epic? Yes. Mine? No.**

* * *

**WOTD: DWANG; D****·****wa****·****ng **_**verb.**_** To agonize, to despair, to worry**

"Those legs just don't stop!" the drunken man slurred in her ear as they (mostly him) stumbled out the side-door of a night-club, once again the patsy for their latest op. The inebriated, 5'6", red-haired 'gentleman' currently latching lustrously onto her waist and practically dry-humping her hip was one Mr. Brian Teague, ex-Marine and current drug-smuggler who had been involved with the murder of a petty officer. The team had it on good authority that he was also working closely with Ethan Daniels – another 'gentleman' and 'entrepreneur' that Kensi entertained a weeks before to retrieve valuable intel from his laptop.

After bringing Mr. Daniels to the boat-shed for questioning (quite the shock for him as Kensi went from sex-siren to bad-ass-Blye in two seconds flat), she and Deeks got a name out of him. This ultimately lead them to "Club Hell" (an apt name if there ever was one) where she met Teague and proceeded to pour alcohol down his throat and 'listen' to his belly-aching, all the while under the guise of a recently dumped sexy-secretary-type. He was putty in her hands after his third Strawberry Daiquiri. Sad, really.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, stopping their decent into the alleyway, swaying unsteadily as Kensi fought to keep them both upright, "I...I never got to b-buy you a drink..."

Kensi hid a grimace at the strong smell of cigarettes and rum on his breath and pasted a bright smile on her face as she towered over him in her four inch heels.

"Oh that's okay, I'm more of a JD on the rocks girl myself."

"Alright Kens, you keep him away from the van and get his keys. Me and Sam are gonna try and find his buddies," Callen called over the coms from inside the club as she steered the rapidly-deteriorating Teague further down the alley.

"I—" she halted in her reply abruptly as her companion suddenly stopped walking. It was then she heard a snort/groan coming from the vicinity of her shoulder. With a furrowed brow she turned to Teague and realized that his legs were buckling and he was falling asleep, quickly.

"Give me a sec, guy's out like a light," she grumbled to Callen, dragging the semi-conscious man over to a nearby dumpster. Bending her knees, she let Teague sink to the ground, propping him up against the wall, taking out a zip-tie from her purse and fastening his wrist to the handle the dumpster before searching him.

"Good girl Kens, let the little guy down easy," came the familiar voice of her partner, Marty Deeks over the coms.

Kensi merely rolled her eyes and continued her search of Teague before she felt something in the breast pocket of his suit.

"I think I've got something," she said quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the slumbering man before turning her attention to the items she just retrieved.

"It's some sort of syringe...it's got a little liquid in it, maybe five CCs," she murmured, inspecting it as best she could in the dim lighting of the street lights.

"Could be a sample, maybe acid or something?" Deeks hypothesized from his vantage point at the front door of the club.

"Could be, could be something else, no way of knowing until it's tested...think I'll hang onto it just in case the van's empty," Kensi murmured more to herself than him as she leaned over Teague as gently and quietly as possible.

"Got the keys," she mumbled softly before straightening up, throwing one last cautious glance at the unconscious man at her feet before delving deeper into the alley where a white van soon came into view.

"Found the van, Sam – you and Callen got eyes on Teague's men?"

"Not yet, watch your back Kensi..." Sam cautioned.

"Picture yourself in a boat on the river..." Deeks drawl came over the com, his voice not entirely off-key as he hummed a semi-familiar song. She knew that it was his quirky way of reminding her that he had her back too.

"What are you singing?" Kensi asked as she approached the vehicle, stepping around to the back and unlocking the door.

"Oh come on Kens, don't tell me you don't know who _The Beatles_ are..."

"Of course I do!" she hissed as she climbed up and into the back of the van, slipping the keys and syringe into her purse.

"Hey, you've never seen _Raiders of the Last Ark_ so forgive me if I'm a little sceptical," Deeks retorted before softly singing, "with tangerine trees and marmalade skies..."

"Why the Beatles though?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Seriously Kens? _Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds_? Do you not know what that song's about?"

"Uh..."

"LSD!" Deeks exclaimed, sounding personally offended that she was unaware of this fact, "and what is one of the drugs that Teague and Daniels stole to try sell to Santos Diego tonight?"

Kensi rolled her eyes at his tone, smirking as he continued the verse, his soft voice reassuring (not that she'd dream of ever telling him that) as she fumbled around in the dark.

"Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly, a girl with kaleidoscope eyes..."

"Well, at least you're not singing _Whenever I Call You Friend_," she muttered as Deeks' chuckle sounded in her ear. Quickly, she shuffled further into the van – taking out the mini-flashlight from her purse and shining it down, it illuminating onto a large, square container at her feet.

"I think I've got something," she alerted the team as she picked the lock on the container and pulled up the hatch to reveal—

"Whoa..." she breathed as she glanced down at the multitude of what was a huge shipment of drugs, both in powder and liquid form.

Suddenly, large arms wrapped around Kensi from behind, one around her waist and the other around her neck, choking her, roughly dragging her backwards and out into the alley, her back flush up against their chest. The agent opened her mouth to try and call the distress word but before she could, a callused hand came up and covered her mouth. She could feel the presence of another person as she was shoved up against the van, her back hitting it hard, causing her to bounce off it and fall roughly to the ground – her purse flying out of her gasp, its contents spilling out into the alley.

"Kensi? Kensi!"

On her knees, Kensi heard Deeks call out to her over the coms, but she focused, head downward, on the feet of her assailant in large steel-toed boots as he approached her. When he got within one foot of her, she struck, swinging her leg at his ankle, knocking him off his feet. Having the advantage, she leapt up and kicked him in the stomach. The second assailant, a smaller man of similar appearance to Teague, leapt forward but Kensi was too quick for him – having retrieved her gun from her thigh holder and quickly pistol-whipped him. With him out-cold, Kensi turned her attention back to the first attacker, whirling around, fully prepared to shoot the bastard if he moved an inch when unexpectedly a sharp, burning pain stung her neck.

"KENSI!" Deeks' panicked voice reverberated deafeningly off the alley's narrow walls.

"Deeks..." Kensi breathed as her shook her head to try and clear the groggy feeling that was beginning to engulf her senses. Her world was tipping on its axis as her knees buckled and she stumbled back against the vehicle with a heavy smack. Slowly, she slid to the ground, her heart hammering in her ears, racing a mile a minute. In her bleary haze, she heard a scuffle, the grunting-sounds of two men locked in hand-to-hand combat. Suddenly, there was a gunshot followed by a loud thump like a large body falling to the ground.

The Special Agent fought to keep her eyes open, placing her left hand on her neck, over the puncture wound. Frantic footsteps raced closer and closer to her until a worried face swam in front of her eyes. Familiar bright blue orbs and a scuff of blonde hair morphed into coloured ink-blots as she blinked rapidly.

"Kensi...Kensi! Hey, stay with me..." a large, soft palm cupped her cheek, shaking her gently.

"Sam, Callen, Kensi's down! She's been injected with whatever was in that syringe, we gotta get her to a hospital now!" Deeks yelled frantically, bringing his right hand to cup Kensi's other cheek, holding her head steady, staring intently at her.

"Hey, hey Kens...look at me! Come on partner, come on, open your eyes, stay with me!"

But Kensi's eyelids felt like there was an anvil attached to them, her thoughts jumbling into incoherency and her head swimming, spinning around and around like she were on the tea-cups at a County Fair. She felt sick to her stomach but too weak to vomit so she succumbed to the darkness, it seeping in rapidly like dripping black paint, all while the panicked voice of her partner rang in her ears...

**A/N: DUN DUN DUN! So, part II is up tomorrow where worried!Deeks continues and Kensi deals with the side-effects of being dosed.**

**Oh and I'm by no means a drug expert so everything about them I just researched through Google. Sorry if anything is inaccurate. **

**Please review =]**

**~Ck**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

**"_So...uh, you—you hear anything from the doctor?" he croaked, not able to look her in the eye._**

_**"Well, being the emergency contact, I thought I was privy to such information so, imagine my surprise when a nurse told me to wait in here to be informed along with Miss Blye's...fiancé..." Hetty trailed off, fixing Deeks with one of her formidable stares.**_


	8. Witzelsucht Part II

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 8: Witzelsucht (Part II) **

**A/N: Still dedicated to ****lisbonloafers!**** This is the direct continuation of chapter 7 "Dwang." **

**Disclaimer: If I owned NCIS: LA I'd be living it up in sunny Los Angeles. Seeing as I'm still in Ireland I can say whole-heartedly that I'm not the owner of a successful police/military procedural. **

**WARNING: Contains accidental drug-exposure and subsequent side-effects.**

* * *

**WOTD: ****WITZELSUCHT; wit****·****zel****·****su****·****cht **_**noun**_**. A feeble attempt at humour/humor.**

Dull vibrations of raised voices, continuous beeping of machines, dozens of frantic feet walking briskly and the squeaking of well-worn-wheels was blocked out hastily by the gentle snapping-shut of a door and the shuffling of tired limbs across a gleaming white floor. The body of an exhausted and restless man lowered into an uncomfortable chair to the right of an even more uncomfortable-looking hospital bed that currently housed the limp form of one Special Agent Kensi Blye.

The steady beeping of a heart monitor was a small comfort in the dead of the night as wide azure eyes drank in every inch of the unconscious woman, waiting for a sign of the impending end of her slumber. Shakily, the anxious man brought up one hand to close over his mouth, rubbing his aging beard wearily whilst the other attentively reached for his partner's hand that lay at her side.

It had been only a little over an hour since Deeks found Kensi in that alley with a puncture wound in her neck and an empty syringe at her feet, but it felt like a millennium. Time seemed to have stood still from when his unwavering gaze met her unfocused one, her two-toned eyes rolling back into her head as she lost consciousness, her body going limp in his arms.

Deeks bit his lip as the events of the last sixty minutes replayed over and over in his head like an infinite film reel – from his partner's collapse to his frantic yelling at Eric to get a damn ambulance, to _finally_ hearing the sirens and pushing his way into it – never letting Kensi's hand go as Sam and Callen followed swiftly behind, to the gurney being engulfed into the chaos that was the ER, to him being pushed back by a stern nurse and told to wait as a multitude of people took his partner away from him.

After they drew blood to run a whole host of tests and got Kensi settled into a room and on an IV and heart monitor, Deeks was summoned to the small private ward where he now waited dutifully on word from a doctor. The waiting was the hardest. He looked down at his colleague, partner, friend, as she lay motionless, unaware of the events around her and thought _no, this is the hardest_. While Deeks never liked to see any of his loved-ones hurt, the unknown fate of his partner was downright unbearable.

Before that thought could fully leave his brain, the hospital door creaked open. Deeks' head snapped up, his heart thumping in his chest thinking _at long last_ he was going to get some news, preferably of the good variety. He couldn't help the twang of disappointment in the pit of his stomach when his eyes landed instead on a petite, bespectacled brunette.

"Mr. Deeks," Hetty Lange nodded, her lips in a firm line as she walked closer to the bed, her gaze falling onto Kensi instantly.

"Hetty," Deeks mumbled in acknowledgement as he absentmindedly squeezed Kensi's hand.

The Operations Manager's hawk-like orbs fell to their joined hands with interest. Deeks' eyes darted from Hetty to his hand wrapped around his partner's smaller one and pulled away rapidly as if burned, clearing his throat nervously.

"So...uh, you—you hear anything from the doctor?" he croaked, not able to look her in the eye.

"Well, being the emergency contact, I thought I was privy to such information so, imagine my surprise when a nurse told me to wait in here to be informed along with Miss Blye's...fiancé..." Hetty trailed off, fixing Deeks with one of her formidable stares.

The LAPD liaison's jaw dropped at this, a familiar sensation of discomfort, dread and a little fear seeping into his veins at her words.

"Well I—I told them I was her partner Hetty, it isn't my fault that they took that to mean...something else," he grumbled, knowing well it sounded like a sorry excuse and not the most belivable but just not giving a damn. Hetty could think what she wanted – he had every right to be in this room, just like Kensi had when he'd been shot.

Hetty pursed her lips but remained silent, choosing instead to take a seat on the empty chair beside Deeks. Some things were just better left unsaid.

"Any idea what could have been in the syringe?" she asked quietly, her attention trained on her agent, her liaison firmly in her peripheral vision.

"LSD, GHB, BMW...whatever it is, Kensi is gonna have one hell of a headache tomorrow," Deeks muttered trying and failing to adopt a small smile.

"A worthy talent, Mr. Deeks."

"What?"

"The art of deflecting one's pain with humour."

"I'm fine."

"I've heard when people say that, it really means that they are the exact opposite." Hetty tilted her head to look at him but he kept his azure gaze on the bed.

"Yeah well I'll be...good, when Kensi wakes up," Deeks swallowed nervously, aching to reach out and clasp her hand again but not daring under the watchful eyes of his boss.

Before another word could be spoken however, the hospital door opened and in walked a doctor, Kensi's chart in her hand.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Delaney, which one of you is Miss Blye's Emergency Contact?"

"That would be me, Henrietta Lange," Hetty responded, standing up and shaking the doctor's hand.

The doctor then turned to Deeks, "and you are?" she asked politely.

Deeks leapt up out of the chair, wiping his palms on his jeans, clearing his throat.

"Uh I'm—Detective Marty Deeks...her uh..." Deeks trailed off, his eyes darting to Hetty.

"Fiancé," Hetty finished, her stare glued to the doctor. Deeks tried not to gawp in surprise, gave a gentle shake of his head and turned his eyes to the medical professional.

"Nice to meet you both. Well," she halted to look down at Kensi's chart, "it appears Miss Blye was dosed with a small amount of LSD-25. While relatively harmless by itself in comparison to most drugs, what's rare about this particular sample is that it seems to have been laced with saline solution and a number of other lysergamides that can be fatal in high doses."

Deeks' heart lurched.

"It was the presence of those lysergamides that caused Miss Blye to become disorientated and pass out. But luckily for her, it was 5 CCs of mostly saline solution and only a small amount of LSD, probably about 30 micrograms at the most, so not enough to cause permanent damage or have any lasting side-effects after tomorrow," the doctor finished, looking from Deeks to Hetty and back.

"When you say side-effects, what exactly are we talkin'?" Deeks asked, well-aware of the effects of LSD from his brief stint affiliating with the narcotics division but worrying about the trace amounts of the other unpronounceable chemicals in her system.

"Miss Blye shouldn't really experience anything else other than the normal reactions to being under the influence of LSD, but it really all depends on the individual. It could cause subtle changes in perception – auditory and visual, blurred, warped or intensified sight, a complete lack of anxiety along with the possibility of an intense religious experience and various other hallucinogenic occurrences."

"So, she'll be tripping?" Deeks asked, a small smirk rising on his face at the endless possibilities. The blackmail material would be priceless.

"To put it colloquially, yes."

Hetty and Deeks exchanged an evocative glance before looking back to the still unconscious NCIS Agent.

"Can I take her home?" Deeks questioned, keeping up his appearance of the worried fiancé.

"While I would prefer to keep her overnight for observation, people under the influence of LSD tend to react more positively to being in familiar surroundings with people they are accustomed to. If she were to remain here, we would have to restrain her for her own safety and that of the hospital," the practitioner cautioned, looking over the rim of her glasses as she made a note to Kensi's file.

Hetty and Deeks shared the silent opinion that Kensi Marie Blye would most certainly not react well to being restrained – not that she (even while high as a kite) would remain restrained for long. Again, the possibilities were endless and probably best explored in the comfort and safety of her own home and away from the general public.

"I'd like to take my...uh...fiancée home, if that's alright?" Deeks requested, his eyes adverted from his diminutive companion standing beside him.

"Very well, I'll have her release papers sent up as soon as she comes round, shouldn't be too long now," the doctor replied, walking around to the side of the bed and shinning a light into each of Kensi's eyes.

"Bring her straight back in if she has any adverse reactions, though that's an unlikely possibility. I'll be back in to check her over in about half an hour – if she's awake by then and is fit for it, you'll be free to go" she finished before nodding her goodbyes and leaving Deeks and Hetty alone to sit back down and wait.

As soon as the door snapped shut, the room was plunged into a subterranean silence – the beeping of Kensi's heart monitor the only disruption. Deeks' heart lifted a little now that he knew that his partner was going to perfectly fine – just a little out of it for the next couple of hours. That still didn't stop him from fidgeting however as he felt the steel gaze of one Henrietta Lange pierce his very soul. Slowly, he turned to look at his companion.

"It's a role you play well, Mr. Deeks. Perhaps your best one yet," she murmured, her fingers forming a steeple and pressed pensively to her lips as she regarded him.

"What role?"

"That of the anxious loved-one."

Deeks mouth opened and closed just as quickly. He really had no idea what to say to that so instead, posed a question of his own.

"Why did you tell her I was Kensi's fiancé?"

Hetty tilted her head to the side, resting her elbow on the arm of her chair.

"In our line of work Mr Deeks, I always find that if assumptions are already in place then it's best to not argue and just...roll with it," she replied, a cheeky gleam in her eye.

Before the detective could respond, a soft groan sounded from the bed.

"Kensi?" Deeks leaned forward anxiously, his hand coming up to lightly rest on her forearm.

"Hey Kens—can you hear me?"

Another groan omitted from Kensi's lips as her eyelids began to flutter.

"You're...pretty hard to...ignore," she rasped softly, her now half-open, glazed eyes finding his.

Hetty watched this exchange in silence for a moment, an enigmatical expression on her face. After a moment of quiet contemplation, she climbed out of the chair and began to walk to the door, her intention being to inform Mr Callen and Mr Hanna of their friend's status and to be in turn updated on the questioning of the apprehended men.

Deeks didn't notice her movement however as his gaze was now glued to his partner, his hand coming up to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear. Hetty journeyed calmly to the door but nearly lost her demure composure when she heard Ms Blye's next query:

"Deeks? Why are you orange?"

**A/N: Ha, ha! Dear god this is turning out to be a monster! Next chapter is the last in this Kensi-LSD-storyline. Did I write Hetty okay? Her characterization/unique quirkiness is just so damn hard to do justice!**

**Please Review =]**

**~Cortexikid**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER: **

"_**Kensi! Back away from the stove!"Deeks yelled, leaping in front of her, blocking her view of the alluring kitchen appliance.**_

"_**I can make Snicker Doodles!" she grinned dopily, her face full of almost child-like wonder.**_

"_**You can't make Snicker Doodles."**_

"_**Yes I can! I made Snicker Doodles for the Russian guy that time when I was Justin and you were Melissa."**_

_**Deeks sighed and shook his head. It was going to be a long night.**_


	9. Vesthibitionism Part III

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 9: Vesthibitionism (Part III)**

**A/N: So, here's the final part of the 'Kensi-dosed-with-drugs' storyline ****– a direct continuation of the chapters "Dwang" and "Witzelsucht." ** Hope you all enjoy =]

**Still dedicated to**_** lisbonloafers**_** – thanks again for the encouragement! You rock! :D**

**Disclaimer: Despite many wishes upon a star, NCIS: LA is not mine. **

**WARNING: Contains accidental drug-exposure and subsequent side-effects.**

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**VESTHIBITIONISM; ****Vest****·****hi****·****bit****·****ion****·****ism****, **_**noun**_**. The display of undergarments by a woman**

"Okay now, watch the step, okay, no Kensi—this way, yeah, that's it..." Deeks said softly as he opened the front door with his right hand and with his left he gripped his partner's waist firmly, trying in vain to steer her into the apartment.

"She had popsicles for hair Deeks!"

"I know Kens...I know. It's okay, she won't be in here, come on, let's go in and get you to bed," Deeks murmured gently, praying that none of his neighbours overheard. Running into the nosy Mrs Davis from downstairs was bad enough – she had that look in her eye that just screamed that she thought he was taking advantage of some poor inebriated girl. The fact that said inebriated girl then tried to lick her 'popsicle-like' hair didn't help matters either.

"Don't wanna go to bed!" Kensi pouted and really, how was this his life? Why did she have to look so goddamn adorable, chin on his shoulder, her stunning two-toned eyes staring intently up at him, giving him her utmost attention – or as much as she could give in her state.

"Well you have to Kens, that's the only way you can get better," he murmured into her ear as she hummed softly and nuzzled his neck, her hot breath bouncing off his skin. The poor detective barely suppressed a shudder. Dear god, she was nuzzling his neck! Yep, totally stoned...

"Alright, come on, in we go," Deeks continued, practically dragging her further into his home, kicking his door closed behind him.

"It's too hot!" Kensi groaned suddenly, wrenching away from him before pulling her blouse up and over her face, revealing her toned stomach and black-laced bra.

"Whoa, so this is happening..." Deeks mumbled, his breathing laboured, shaking his head in shock, recovering just in time to stop his partner from stumbling into the wall as she tried to manoeuvre the blouse over her head.

"I'm...stuck!" came the muffled voice of a disorientated Kensi, swaying on her feet.

"Whoa, okay Kens, let's get this down," Deeks half-whispered, gently clutching the hem of her blouse in his fingers and began peeling it back down over her body. A stoned Kensi he could handle (barely) but a stoned, semi-naked Kensi? Not a chance in hell.

"But I'm itchy..."

Before Deeks could even open his mouth Kensi began clumsily scratching every conceivable inch of her skin she could reach, twisting and contorting her body, turning on the spot, her nails scraping and irritating her flesh – angry, red welts forming quickly.

"Hey, hey, Kensi, stop! You're gonna hurt yourself! Okay, okay, here—" Deeks darted over to where a basket containing a load of his freshly-washed clothes lay, "take these and go change, it will probably stop the itch. Do you remember where the bathroom is?"

The brunette pursed her lips and took the clothes that Deeks randomly grabbed from the pile, nodding vigorously before stumbling forward and down the hallway. Deeks stared at her retreating back like an anxious parent would their child as took their first steps. He breathed a sigh of relief when she crossed the short distance and stood triumphant in the bathroom, unscathed.

"Okay, good, just don't lock the—" Deeks was cut off as his partner slammed the door, the sound of it being locked reverberating though the apartment.

"Dammit Kensi! I said DON'T lock it!"

With a speed Superman would envy, Deeks bolted over his couch and raced towards the closed door, banging on it incessantly.

"Kensi? Kensi! Be careful in there okay? If you don't come out in five minutes I'll have no choice but break down the door!" he yelled, wincing at his words – he really didn't think semi-threatening her was the best idea.

"Would you relax? I'm fine you silly goose," came her chuckled reply.

Marty Deeks could safely say he'd never been called that before. He'd have to add it to his personal lexicon. The fact she said 'fine' just felt like a bad omen and was stubbornly ignored. Biting his thumb-nail nervously, shifting from foot to foot, five minutes felt like a damn eternity.

"Kensi are you—" suddenly, the bathroom door flung open, exposing his now semi-naked partner, staring at him as if it was completely normal for her to be standing opposite him in nothing but his Beatles' t-shirt (the irony was not lost on him). Deeks lost his voice for a good two minutes as the friends regarded one another in absolute silence.

"Where..." nope, he still wasn't quite ready to talk yet.

Clearing his throat and dragging a hand down his face wearily he continued, "where are the pants I gave you?"

"The hamper ate them."

"What?"

"The laundry hamper ate them...what are you, deaf as well as orange?" Kensi cackled her creepiest 'ha!' yet, followed closely by the girliest giggle Deeks ever heard in his life escaping her lips.

"And where's your blouse and skirt?"

"Well someone had to rescue your pants."

Her 'duh' was implied. Here, Deeks finally lost his composure and allowed a snort of pained amusement to escape, shaking his head at the current turn of events.

What the hell was this? Some cosmic rouse by an evil universe to test his dedication to this partner? To test his will-power? To try and break his resolve in the form of tempting him into ravishing his very beauteous, very alluring friend?

Whatever the hell it was, it wasn't fair to either of them. For her because she was not in a clear state of mind and would more than likely never speak to him or be able to stand in the same room as him again if she ever managed to remember any of this in the morning. And for him because Kensi Blye in his shirt (or potato-sack really) was truly the most stunning thing he had ever seen in his entire life and he would surely continue to dream about for years to come. And shit like that distracts you on the job. And in your personal life. And their partnership didn't need that kinda strain, damn it. Their 'thing' was hard enough to ignore at the best of times, at least from his side, this was just adding insult to injury.

"Kens...how's about you put them back on though huh? Your legs are gonna get cold," he suggested softly, shaking himself out of his reverie, not wanting to spook her.

"I can't," she said as if the reason was incredibly obvious, "they haven't been digested yet."

If it were any other circumstance, Deeks would bet his life that she was screwing with him (unfortunate choice of phrase he realized too late) but even Kensi wouldn't stoop this low, wouldn't embarrass herself this badly.

"Uh, okay then, how about I find you a pair of different sweat-pants and you can put them on instead?" There. Problem solved. Now he wouldn't have to look at her gloriously long and slender—_mind out of the gutter Deeks!_

Kensi merely laughed heartily, a deep chuckle from the pit of her stomach as she began to tip-toe towards him. An irrational fear crept up the cop's spine as she sauntered towards him, looking the epitome of a lioness hunting its prey. And he was definitely prey.

"What—what ya doin' Kens?" God, he hated how nervous and on-edge he sounded. Suddenly, he was 16 again and in the back of his mom's Station Wagon with Stacy Winters, trying and failing to calm the hell down. Only now, he was 33 and Stacy Winters was 320% hotter and 325% more dangerous.

Despite the multiple alarm bells going off in his head, Deeks could only watch, words caught in his throat as Kensi reached up with her right hand and ran her fingers through his rumpled, flaxen hair. It felt amazing, it really did, so much so that he very nearly closed his eyes. But, his concern for her wellbeing far surpassed any desire he could have felt for her physically now. He made himself personally responsible for her in this state (he was the sober one here after all) but it went even deeper than that.

Yes, clearly his partner was beautiful inside and out, having a fun personality, a heart of gold and a kick-ass attitude to go with her striking looks and mad skills– all of this was true and very easy to respect and admire. It was also a fact that he cared for her deeply, more so than he has been willing to admit, even to himself.

However, even with these strong emotions all rushing to the surface as he saw his partner in an entirely different light and being more physically open with him than ever (excluding the fake-marriage op), Marty Deeks was too good of a man to ever take advantage of any woman in such a state, never mind a woman who he held in the highest of regards – higher than any other female he's ever known, right up there with his mother.

She was his partner and friend, first and foremost, which mattered more to him than some unresolved feelings he's had since the first day he laid eyes on her. It mattered more than their 'thing', more than everything else really. He thought he might lose her today and while that further intensified what he felt, made him realize just the serious effect she has on him and the giant part of his life that she occupies and will continue to occupy for many years to come he wasn't going to do or say anything to jeopardize their partnership, friendship. He was not going to let her take any step he knew well she wouldn't dream about taking when in of sound mind. He cared about her too much to let that happen, to let the drug overriding her senses make decisions for her.

So, summoning strength with a deep breath, he took her hand in his, pulling it gently away from him and spoke in the softest of tones, "come on Kens, you've had a long day, you should sleep..."

Her brow furrowed a little as she watched him remove her hand, biting her lip as if upset.

"They need music Deeks!" she suddenly exclaimed, looking at something to his left.

_It could cause subtle changes in perception – auditory and visual, blurred, warped or intensified sight, a complete lack of anxiety along with the possibility of an intense religious experience and various other hallucinogenic occurrences._

The doctor's voice rang in his ears.

Before he could ask who it was she was talking about (not that he really wanted to know – that can of worms could stay closed as far as he was concerned) Kensi leapt over to his stereo and began fumbling through his iPod that was docked in the station.

The opening bars of _I Gotta Feelin'_ by The Black Eyed Peas wafted through the apartment loudly.

"Really Kens? I Gotta Feelin'? Cliché much?"

"C'mon Deeks, dance with me!"

"I thought you said you didn't wanna do any type of dance with me?" Deeks reminded her, forgetting that she was far too gone to recall a conversation they had months ago.

"I can feel the music...it's...wonderful!"

"Yeah okay Yoko, whatever you say!" Seriously, Bad-Ass-Bye must have watched way too many hippy movies as a kid.

Kensi ignored him, spinning to and fro, waving her hands in front of her face, her eyes transfixed on the movement.

"You realize I have neighbours right? They're gonna call the cops!" Deeks scolded, cringing as her thigh collided roughly with the edge of his table.

"We are the cops!" Kensi grinned manically, before continuing to whirl around and around, her arms outstretched as if she didn't have a care in the world.

"Nuh-uh. I princess, am a cop. You? Not so much..."

They were practically shouting at each other as Deeks' feet remained perfectly stationary as Kensi began swaying her hips back and forth, her arms flailing wildly. Without warning, she suddenly halted in her dancing and stormed out into the kitchen. The detective followed her curiously. His eyes widened as he saw what she was making a bee-line for.

"Kensi! Back away from the stove!" Deeks yelled, leaping in front of her, blocking her view of the alluring kitchen appliance.

"I can make Snicker Doodles!" she grinned dopily, her face full of child-like wonder.

"You can't make Snicker Doodles."

"Yes I can! I made Snicker Doodles for the Russian guy that time when I was Justin and you were Melissa."

Deeks sighed and shook his head. It was going to be a long night.

"Okay one, Wal-Mart made those Snicker Doodles not you; you just warmed them in the oven, Martha Stewart. And two, I was Justin, you were Melissa."

"That's what I said!"

"I—saved by the bell," he muttered as the shrill ring of his cell-phone sounded from his pocket.

"Oh I love that show!" Kensi grinned as her partner retrived his phone.

"Kensi, can you turn off the music please?" Deeks asked, motioning for her to leave the kitchen and return to the living room – lifting his phone to his ear.

"Deeks."

"Is that Callen? Tell him I say hey! HEY CALLEN!" Kensi waved frantically as she practically skipped over to the stereo, fumbling to try and turn the music off.

"Bye, bye music..." she hummed, still swaying back and forth as if it were still playing.

"Is that Kensi?" Callen asked Deeks, confusion lacing his tone.

"The one and only," he grumbled in reply, staring intently at his partner as she flopped down on his couch, one hand resting behind her head as she stared at the ceiling, the other hand stretched upwards, drawing patterns that only she could see in the air.

"How's the trip?"

Deeks rolled his eyes.

"It's...something. She's like a really drunk eleven-year-old with imaginary friends."

"I'm 29!" she informed him from her perch, now murmuring to something that was apparently a 'cutie-pie' and sitting on his coffee table. It made the cop glad that the excitable Monty was sleeping peacefully in his room and had yet to make an appearance. He wasn't sure her drug-addled-state could handle something that cute and you know, real.

"Yes Kens, I know you are. Get anything outta Teague and his men?" he quietly asked Callen, angling his body away from his partner but making sure she was still firmly in his peripheral vision.

"They're singing like birds. The big guy that attacked Kensi copped to the murder of Petty Officer Green and the assault of a Federal Agent. Teague and the guy Kensi pistol-whipped –his cousin, along with Daniels have been charged with the theft and attempted distribution of an illegal substance and lead us to the rest of the shipment. Case closed."

Deeks smirked at that. Good enough for the bastards. Although, if it were up to him, the big guy would get a lot worse than a jail-cell to call home. Although he did take pleasure in knowing that the goon would wake up in the morning with one hell of a shiner, two broken teeth and a fractured rib – courtesy of one LAPD liaison.

"Thanks for the update Callen; I'll call you and Sam tomorrow to fill ya in on Little Miss Druggy's status."

"Keep an eye on her Deeks."

"You kidding me? I won't take my eyes off her, the woman's a grade-A ninja and Harry Houdini rolled into one." Callen gave a snort of agreement before hanging up.

Deeks lowered his phone slowly, now realizing the sudden absence of crazy ramblings from a certain drugged-up agent. Turning his head cautiously, his eyes fell onto the couch, a warm sensation flowing through his veins, straight into his chest cavity. There, laying spread out on her back was his partner, arms and legs akimbo, mouth-open, little snore-snorts sounding from her nose. She was the quintessence of adorable.

Shaking his head, he groaned at the unfairness of the world, realizing that there was no way he could leave her there all night. If anyone knew how crappy it was to wake up on that couch, it was him. But he'd suffer it tonight – the least he could do was offer up his bed to his partner.

Kicking off his shoes, he trudged over and looked down at his partner for a moment. He was never the type to lie awake and watch anyone sleep (that was kinda creepy really) but Kensi Marie Blye was one woman he could honestly say he could look at for hours. Even with her weird-ass sleeping habits that were luckily on the right side of cute.

"Kens..." he whispered, gently shaking her arm, "Kens, wakey wakey eggs and bakey, you can't sleep here..."

A moan and a rough swat on his hand was her response.

"Come on Kensi...sit up."

Another moan.

"Kensi if you don't get up, I'm gonna have to carry you, bridal-style...across a threshold..." he trailed off, watching intently as her face morphed into a frown of discomfort, clearly something he said breaking through her haze.

No Kensi, under the influence or not, would ever allow him to do anything of the sort.

"Ugh," she grumbled, dragging her heavy limbs upright to sit. With her eyes still closed, she held out her limp arms, wrists bent like a zombie. Catching on to her meaning, Deeks clasped her by the elbows and pulled her up off the couch, tucking one arm around her waist and leading her to his room.

Funny. The dream-sequences never went quite like this.

"Monty!" the brunette squealed loudly in his ear as her heavy-lidded eyes landed on the once-slumbering mutt at the foot of Deeks' bed.

"Hello you cutie-pie!" she stumbled over to the dog, scratching him under the chin as she cooed and kissed him.

"That's one lucky dog..."

"What?" she turned to Deeks, a cheesy grin on her tired face.

"Nothing, talking to myself."

"First sign of madness," she sing-songed, patting Monty one last time before straightening up and looking at him expectedly.

"What?" Deeks asked, feeling a little exposed, her x-ray-like vision raking over him.

"Are you not going to sleep too?"

"Uh yeah...I'll—get outta your way—"

"No Deeks, I'm not kicking you out...stay," she said, her voice sounding the most firm since her drug-exposure.

Well that was unexpected.

"Are you...sure?" he asked timidly, afraid to over-step a line.

"Wouldn't be the first time," she gave a non-committal shrug before plonking down, claiming the right side with a fold of her arms and a daring arched eyebrow.

Deeks' own eyebrows rose as he watched her pull the blanket up over herself, her tantalising, long legs finally covered. Finally settled, Kensi sat there in his bed, looking every bit like she belonged, his devoted mutt at her side, her head tilted to the side as she regarded him quietly. The sound of light traffic outside was all that could be heard in the bedroom as the partners found themselves locked in a staring match – neither seemingly willing to look away from the other. It was when Kensi's eyes began to lose focus that Deeks remembered just how worn-out she must be – from her initial rampant behaviour to the drug wreaking havoc on her system. She needed to rest.

"Alright," he nodded, "I—I'm going to get changed, be right back," he started, his eyes darting away from her as he walked out towards the bathroom, forcing himself not to look back over his shoulder at her but still managing to find her form in his mirror.

"Okay Mr. Oompa Loompa," she beamed at his back, chuckling as Monty licked her hand.

And oh look, there was another name he could safely say he had never been called in his life – mentally he updated his ever-growing lexicon.

Deeks was gone no more than five minutes, before he re-entered his room, clad in pajama pants and black t-shirt. He couldn't stop the wide grin that spread across his face as his eyes drank in the view in front of him. His partner was fast asleep, curled up on her side, arm slung over Monty – who had stretched out to his full length in the middle of the bed – an effective barrier for the two partners.

Shaking his head, Deeks shuffled over to the left-side of the bed, moving Monty's tall out of the way and lay down, eyes staring straight up at the ceiling, his mind reeling about the events of the day. What he really had to consider though was – what about tomorrow?

One thing was for sure. There is no way in hell he's gonna tell Kensi that she willing took off her clothes and danced around his living room in nothing but his shirt. He'd have to come up with some plausible reason for her to be clad in nothing but his ratty old tee though.

Humm...this called for some creativity on his part. Strip-poker might do it, she could have suggested that in her drugged-up-state and just got a little ahead of herself right? Well, regardless, that was the story he was going with. A lie he wasn't entirely comfortable with telling but...the alternative wasn't looking so great either.

He also knew he would have to get up and retreat to the couch before morning, or surely risk getting a black eye when she awoke sober and hung-over with the mother of all headaches to find herself in a strange bed, not alone. The shirt he may be able to explain away. But why they were sleeping in the same bed while not on an op? Nope. He got nothin'.

For now though he was too tired think about it any longer. Gently, Deeks let his eyes close, smiling as he heard her familiar little snort-snore thing in his ear, her breath ruffling Monty's fur.

Trying and failing to wipe the stupid grin off his face, Deeks closed his eyes, quickly falling into the most restful sleep he'd had in a long time...thoughts of nice houses and red dresses and towels and Snicker Doodles and cover kisses dancing in his head.

**A/N: The somewhat-sequel to this can be read under the "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" section in my Densi one-shot "Partners In Crime Fighting" – it features the dreaded 'Morning After The Night Before' where poor Kensi suffers Deeks' teasing =] Phew!**** That was long! I'm exhausted now! =[**

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**ATTENTION READERS!: I'M GOING ON A SHORT VACATION/WRITERS' CONVENTION UNTIL SUNDAY 3RD OF JUNE, SO I DON'T THINK I'LL BE ABLE TO UPDATE DAILY UNTIL AFTER I GET BACK HOME– I MAY BE ABLE TO POST ONE OR TWO CHAPTERS OVER THE COURSE OF THE 5 DAYS BUT NOT DAILY. I'M SORRY! I WILL MAKE UP FOR IT NEXT WEEK THOUGH, I PROMISE =]**

**Please Review =]**

**~Cortexikid**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

_**"You don't think I look sorta like a certain international spy in this tux?"**_

_**"Yeah, sure you do."**_

_**"Really? I look like James Bond?" Deeks asked, his eyes alight with wonder at her compliment.**_

_**"Meh," Kensi scrunched up her nose, tilting her head as her eyes raked over him, "I was thinking more like Austin Powers..."**_


	10. Maulifuff

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 10: Maulifuff **

**A/N: So, I have a little spare time on my vacation and just remembered that it's Eric Christian Olsen's birthday today :) To celebrate that and the 10-chapter-mark, I think it's about time for a little Densi-lovin'. Nothing of the horizontal-kind (yet) but it's a step in the right direction...enjoy!**

**NOTE: Please forgive any/more mistakes as I'm updating on my smart-phone for the first time & without wi-fi :/**

**Disclaimer: If NCIS: LA was mine, it'd be mostly Densi-banter, Sam and Callen bromance and Nelric cuteness so, yeah, not mine. Neither are two of the most famous international spies...**

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**WOTD: MAULIFUFF; Mau****·****li****·****fuff **_**noun**_**. A fussy female who does little or nothing**

"Oh. My. God."

"Don't you dare laugh!"

"T-Too late," Kensi guffawed, her shoulders shaking as she took in her partner's appearance.

"Oh like you haven't been in worse."

Kensi raised her eyebrows in a silent 'oh really?' Deeks grimaced, knowing well he was beat.

"Okay so, you probably haven't been in worse but...you had Hetty's help for years, okay? You know me Kens, I'm totally method and that means—"

"Impersonating the Men in Black?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Kensi snorted, pulling the black sunglasses off his face.

"You don't think I look sorta like a certain international spy in this tux?"

"Yeah, sure you do."

"Really? I look like James Bond?" Deeks asked, his eyes alight with wonder at her compliment.

"Meh," Kensi scrunched up her nose, tilting her head as her eyes raked over him, "I was thinking more like Austin Powers..."

Deeks' smile fell. Kensi's smile widened.

"Okay one, Austin Powers didn't wear a tux. Two, I can't believe you saw that movie but not Raiders of the Lost Ark and three, you're mean. I have no idea why I put up with you!"

"Because Miss Blye is an exemplary agent Mr Deeks...and no one else would put up with _you_," came the voice of one Henrietta Lange, folding her arms and inspecting the detective in much the way his partner did.

"Couldn't have put it better myself Hetty," Kensi laughed, beaming at her uncomfortable partner.

Deeks stuck out his tongue at her and avoided eye contact with the Operations Manager, waiting for the x-ray-like assessment to end.

"So...do I pass?"

"Once you forego the ridiculous eye-wear..." Hetty grumbled, reaching up to brush invisible lint from his arm.

"Done."

"And change your outfit."

Deeks gaped at her, confusion written on his unshaven face.

"Then you'll do," she finished, patting his arm once more before walking off towards the wardrobe in search of something for her hopeless liaison.

"Oh Hetty, you make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside," Deeks called to her retreating back.

Kensi rolled her eyes and walked over to stand in front of him, looking stunning in her simple, yet elegant black dress, chestnut, wavy hair flowing about her shoulders. Attentively, her nimble fingers reached out to undo his tie. Deeks stilled, barely breathing, his mouth slightly agape as she smoothed down the cloth over his chest with both hands and pulled it out from beneath his collar, before her brain caught up with the movement and halted her hands immediately.

"Don't worry," she smirked, handing the material back to him, her two-toned gaze reaching his, "you'll do great, double-oh-behave."

* * *

The Camden Hotel was as swanky and as obnoxious as a five-star hotel could possibly get. Granite floors complemented with marble walls with pillars as tall as trees, lobbies and bars populated with fresh flowers in glass vases, pristinely-dressed staff with perpetual smiles and finely styled hair and debonair guests with much more money than sense.

Marty Deeks was in hell.

With set-shoulders, he sauntered into the bar, the embodiment of alluring, in a fitted gray suit with a tight, silver waist-coat, (courtesy of Hetty as his own tux was apparently 'a deplorable excuse for scrap material') with a confident air about him as if he owned the place. Three sets of eyes watched him intently, a bald, wealthy-looking business-man, a waiter weaving in and out of small glass tables - serving glasses of champagne and a beautiful brunette getting her ear talked-off by a man much too old for her.

"What can I get you sir?" a bar-tender asked as Deeks took a seat at the bar.

"Bourbon, neat," Deeks ordered without any semblance of warmth. God did he _detest _this alias.

"Comin' up," the waiter replied nonetheless, fixing the drink quickly before sliding the glass towards him.

Deeks took it up, knocked it back and slammed it down on the bar in one fluid move, ushering for another, this time to nurse a little as he took a look around. After paying for both drinks he turned on the spot, leaning backwards onto the bar and surveying the scene around him. It really was everything he expected, everything he remembered from being Will Jacobs – a young, rich, successful 'entrepreneur,' back in 2007.

"Got anything Deeks?" Sam asked, taking a sip of champagne as he 'read' a newspaper.

"You mean apart from the stench of stale desperation in the air and the urge to gouge my eyes out with ridiculously expensive silverware?" the detective asked, a hint of malice in his tone.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Callen commented under his breath as he served another glass of champagne to an aging, extravagantly dressed woman.

"No, woke up on the right as usual, just hate this place, this cover, this—uh-oh..." Deeks suddenly (but without drawing attention to himself) turned back around and lowered his head.

"What's uh-oh?" Kensi asked, her tone on edge.

"Crazy-ex – my one o'clock."

He could hear the roll of her eyes.

"Is there no square inch of LA left that isn't filled with your less-than-favourable trysts?"

"Oh yeah, baby," he murmured under his breath in his best (which wasn't saying much) Austin Powers impression.

He could feel her glare on the back of his neck from across the room. With a chance glance to his right, he saw his 'less-than-favourable-ex' edge ever nearer, champagne glass (which Callen so dutifully offered her) in hand.

"She's approaching fast guys...what ya think Kens? The time-of-the-month voices in my head and a fondness for colonics enough to scare her off?" he smirked, gulping down the last of his bourbon, pretending he doesn't see the approach of the tall, golden-haired, demon of the underworld.

"Something tells me you won't pull it off, Deeks," came his partner's less-than-teasing reply.

"Yeah, guess it takes a real nut to pull off that kinda deal."

Before Kensi could respond in what he knew would be an exclamation of extreme offense and threat of bodily harm, the blonde tapped him daintily on the shoulder. Having no choice, Deeks turned slowly, flashing the most charming smile he could muster in this cluster-fuck of a situation.

"Well hello there handsome," she cooed, running a hand down his arm, "haven't seen you in a while."

"Hey Bailey...how are you?"

Her face broke out in a predatory smile.

"Much better, now that you're here..." she laughed shrilly, bumping his hip with hers before taking a seat beside him at the bar.

"She seems a little less...homicidal than your other exes," Kensi commented dryly in his ear.

"So, how've you been Will? Last time I saw you, you were in bed with my best friend," the blonde, Bailey, began – her tone dripping with pseudo-sweetness.

"Yeah...sorry about that, I didn't realize you guys were friends—" Deeks replied casually, trying not to break character.

"And that makes it okay?" she snarled, her entire persona morphing into a bitter twist as she leaned over, getting right up into his face.

"Spoke too soon, Kens. Cut her loose Deeks."

Deeks offered the persistent blonde a tight smirk, leaning back from her, before hissing under his breath.

"The woman's a frickin' Anaconda Callen! Just how do you expect me to—"

"Hey, honey, sorry I'm late," Kensi suddenly appeared at his side, with a swish of her hips, her eyes gleaming in the dim light as she pressed up against him, her hand squeezing his shoulder as she flicked her tousled hair over her shoulder, throwing him a wide smile.

"Uh hi Sug—" Kensi effectively cut him off by pressing her lips to his in a chaste kiss. Deeks' eyes widened for a moment – not believing that this was actually happening again. His eyes fell shut as his heart soared, thudding frantically in his chest, a vibrous thrill flooding his veins.

Before he could recover from the shock and respond, she was already beginning to pull away. But Deeks' body was having none of that, not this time. His hands acted on their own accord, one hand cupping her jaw and the other planting itself on her waist, gently holding her in place.

For her part, Kensi did well in going with the flow – he expected her to tense up at his actions but nope, his ever-surprising partner decided to wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers raking through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her.

Deeks was going to have a damn heart-attack...but what a way to go!

Deciding to take an opportunity when he was presented with one, the detective grew bold, his tongue peaking out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. He felt rather than heard Kensi gasp and knew that her eyes had flown open in shock but before either of them could continue, a loud noise caught their attention, forcing them to break apart.

"Ahem!" Bailey faux-coughed, glaring at the two of them with hardened olive eyes.

"Oh! I'm sorry—didn't realize we had an audience," Kensi murmured, her breathing laboured, cheeks aflame as she avoided eye-contact with Deeks and turned her attention to the scorned blonde.

"Clearly," the woman deadpanned, her arms folding in an angry flourish.

"I'm sorry, sometimes I just can't help myself—" Kensi chuckled, standing up on her tip-toes and pecking his cheek before flashing Bailey another grin.

"Ugh," the blonde groaned in disgust, before standing up, looking right at the 'happy couple.'

"That man is a dirty, cheating low-life who cares about no one but himself – you might wanna rethink dating him if you don't wanna get screwed over, literally," she tilted her head at Deeks, her eyes daggers of steel.

"Nice seein' ya again, Will," her tone suggesting the exact opposite, before stalking off, nose in the air.

Deeks and Kensi stood there motionless for a moment, watching her retreating back in silence.

"You make it a habit of sleeping with your girlfriend's friends?" she asked suddenly, still not looking at him.

Deeks, having finally regained brain function after that mind-blowing kiss, turned to glance at her, sincerity in his eyes.

"It wasn't me Kens, it was Will. He's a spoilt, rich socialite who frankly, doesn't give a crap about anything but himself...and besides, girlfriend is such a strong word. A few nights of Deeks-pretending-to-be-Will-private-time does not a girlfriend make," he replied, trying to diffuse the tension with humour.

As soon as the words left his mouth he knew that it was not the right thing to say.

Kensi merely glared before elbowing him unnecessarily hard in the ribs to warn him of their mark's arrival, a tall, beautiful red-headed woman in a tight-fitting dress that sauntered toward them.

"Should be right up your street Casanova," she muttered under her breath before edging away, eyes lowered to avoid the widened gazes of Sam and Callen.

* * *

"Well done everyone," Hetty called, walking over to the team as they trudged into OSP, all four looking weary and rumbled in the expensive formal wear.

"Thanks to Miss Johnston's confession to Mr Deeks, we now know the location of the warehouse and have a lead on the stolen missiles."

"All in a day's work," Callen smirked, shrugging off his white, waiter's blazer and loosening his tie.

"Yeah and we even got some in-op-entertainment when Deeks ran into a little trouble in the form of a blonde socialite that wanted his head on a pike," Sam laughed, giving the detective a little shove before he took a seat at his desk. Kensi visibly tensed as she lowered herself into her chair.

Hetty nodded pensively, "ah, she was a Maulifuff—"

"Gazuntite," Deeks, Kensi, Sam and Callen interrupted in unison.

Hetty pursed her lips at the team, an amused gleam in her eye before shaking her head and shuffling away, towards her office.

Sam stood up as Callen packed his bag.

"You know what Maulifuff means, G?"

"Not a clue," Callen laughed as the two made their way past Kensi and Deeks. Sam threw them a teasing grin, murmuring "night love-birds" before walking with his partner out of OSP, their usual banter filling the silence along the way.

"And then there were two," Deeks murmured softly as he watched Kensi from his desk.

"One," she grumbled under her breath with a shrug, grabbing her stuff and standing up, preparing to leave. Deeks could tell she was still off with him by the set of her shoulders and the fact that that was the first word she spoken to him since finishing the op. With a worried glance, he watched her begin her trek towards the exit without as much as a 'kiss my ass Deeks' and couldn't bear to leave it like this.

"So, is that like, your signature move now?"

Kensi's body went rigid, her back to him, her arms held tightly at her sides.

"What?" she asked tightly, not turning around.

"The 'cover kiss.' That's twice in less than a year partner...if I didn't know better, I'd say you like lockin' lips with little ol' me..." Deeks grinned, praying she didn't see past his tense façade, eyebrows raised, knowing that she could feel his expression (no matter how false) – even if she couldn't see it. It wouldn't be long now...

_Three._

_Two_

_One._

"Oh don't flatter yourself Deeks!" she exclaimed, her once unyielding body now alive with movement as she whirled around to glare at him.

"How else would you have gotten outta that situation? That blonde was ready to throw down her Prada purse and kick you in the cul-de-sac! I saved your ass, Deeks!" she spat, now finding herself leaned over his desk, face mere inches from his as she glowered over him.

"Last I checked, cul-de-sac didn't mean ass," he murmured softly, secretly pleased that she had picked up one of his boorish terms, his cerulean eyes glimmering as he stared up at her, his heart hammering in his chest at the familiar rosy-tint to her cheeks. _God, she's so frickin' hot when she's pissed the hell off..._

"Well I saved the general area then," she snarled, her arms folding across her chest as she straightened up and stood back from his desk.

"And my general area thanks you. The rest of me can't help but wonder though...why a kiss? A warm smile and hand-holding would have sufficed."

Deeks had no idea why he wanted to ask this now. Maybe it was her reaction to Bailey or the fact that he had to practically bed the blonde's friend to gather intel when he was uncover or maybe (most plausibly) that kiss really did fuck up his common sense, what little he ever had of it. Whatever it was, it was happening now, the words flying out of his mouth without little permission from him.

"Well, I didn't realise it offended you so much. In future, I'll try to control myself and let you get turned into a unic," Kensi growled sarcastically before picking her bag back up off the floor from where it had fallen in her flourish and preparing to leave, again.

"Kens I—"

"It's late, Deeks. I'm going home," she grumbled, all fight suddenly absent from her voice. She sounded weary and...almost sad. Deeks' heart panged painfully in his chest at the thought of being the one that made her feel that way, even if it was only indirectly and something that had been out of his control.

"Look Kens," he said softly, slowly standing up and approaching her with caution, "I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of when I was other people, I had to charm Bailey's friend to get intel, just like you had to do with that scumbag Ethan a couple of months ago. As you know, it's one of the many hazards of undercover work, but I've never deliberately tried to hurt an innocent person."

The woman, Nicole, sprang to the forefront of her mind as he said this, but she pushed it down roughly. Kensi knew she wasn't being fair to him...but she'd no idea why. Why did it bother her so much what he did, undercover or not? More importantly, why did she let him know that it bothered her? What made her slip up? Why did Deeks always manage to get under her skin like no one else she ever knew?

But this was not the time to dwell on such life-altering questions, that would come later, far later, in the dead of the night as she lay awake in her bed, alone, staring at the ceiling. Now, her trusted partner was awaiting a response...something, anything from her that would make them..._them_ again.

"That...that's not who I am. You know that right?" the detective shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling suddenly unnerved. Kensi let out a soft sigh, Deeks' head rose.

A two-toned brown gaze met a light blue.

Kensi saw the pain there. Even though he hid it so well, she could always see past his masks. Just like he could with her. She couldn't bear that she was making the usually easy-going, light-hearted cop this...self-conscious.

After a short (yet agonizing) moment his partner nodded her head, all expression draining from her face.

"No, I know that isn't really you. And you're right Deeks, I—I do know what it's like having to be someone that is less than...admirable, I—I shouldn't have...I don't know what I...I'm sorry," she muttered, her thoughts in a jumble as she heaved another sigh, looking as if there were now a weight off her shoulders.

"Wow, a kiss and an apology all in one night? Must be my birthday."

"Shut up, Double-Oh-Zero."

"That's Deeks, Marty Deeks," he winked, hooking his suit jacket over his shoulder as Kensi rolled her eyes.

And just like that, they were back to normal – at least on the surface. Neither were brave enough to truly explore any potential feelings that may have been felt during their second 'cover kiss' (why break the habit of a lifetime?) or investigate why Kensi had such an adverse reaction to Deeks past love-exploits. But that was them all over.

Kensi Blye and Marty Deeks.

Masters of avoidance, denial and deception.

They really were the perfect match.

**A/N: I'm not sure about this one. I wanted to explore another 'cover kiss' but am not entirely satisfied with this. Meh. It'll do, I guess.**

**A review would be lovely =]**

**~Ck**

_**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**_

_**She was going to kill him.**_

_**Before her brain could catch up, her legs stormed over to him, her hand reaching out and pulling at his arm roughly.**_

_**"Deeks how the hell did you find—oh I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else..." Kensi jerked her hand away from his arm, realizing with horror as he turned around that he was definitely not her partner.**_

_**"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint."**_


	11. Doppelgänger Part I

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 11: Doppelgänger**

**A/N: I'M BAAAAAAACK! =] Lol. I'm a dork, I know. Anyway, moving swiftly onwards—thanks to **_**SunnyCitrus10**_** for the word submission and the helpful suggestions on the characteristics of the doppelgänger, name, eye-colour etc. =] The name especially was genius so thanks so much :) hope I do him justice!**

**NOTE: This is the first in what I'm calling the 'Doppelgänger Series.' It will more than likely be about 3 chapters.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned NCIS:LA I would make Kensi run her fingers through Deeks' hair at least twice a day for the foreseeable future. So yeah, clearly I don't own it. A girl can dream though...**

* * *

**WOTD: DOPPELGANGER; ****dop·pel·gäng·er ****_noun_****.**** Deprived from the German language, literally meaning 'Ghostly Double.' One who nearly or completely resembles another- but with no biological relation.**

Kensi Blye rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan as she waited in line at her favourite burger place, her stomach rumbling embarrassingly loudly. Her eyes darted around her nervously, praying that the hustle and bustle was just noisy enough to mask the consistent grumbling from her abdomen. It had been over twenty-five minutes since she arrived and she was beginning to lose her patience, it was a Saturday for god's sake, she had better things to be doing with her time – like cleaning her guns and catching up on Top Model.

But no, Detective Marty Deeks had to come and hijack her lazy Saturday afternoon with his stupid persistence in taking her surfing. Surfing her ass...she spent more time standing on the beach, staring blearily at the water as a Deeks-shaped blur whirled around in the ocean than she did 'practicing her stand.' She'd been 'standing' since she was 9 months old for pete's sake, why the hell did she have to practice on a flat board on the frickin' sand anyway? And to top it off, not so much as her big toe went within a five foot radius of the damn sea! It was a huge waste of time if you asked her – although she did enjoy Deeks getting washed out by a gigantic wave – that was hilarious (once she knew he was okay, of course), definitely something to convince Eric and Nell to get their hands on later.

Yet all so-called-good things must come to an end, and after her partner not-so-subtly expressed his hunger loudly in her ear for a full twenty minutes, Kensi left him to get changed out of his wet-suit while she went on the hunt for some lunch.

But this was plain ridiculous! How long does it take to fry up a few burgers, slap 'em on a bun with some tomato and lettuce and ring up an order? After checking her watch for what felt like the millionth time in the last five minutes, Kensi threw up her hands and fully prepared to high-tail it outta there (the veggie deluxe was good but not that good) when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

A flash of familiar, tousled blonde hair appeared a few feet to her left. Her eyebrows furrowed angrily as she watched him get served food – the bastard just cut the line! After she'd already said she was buying—what the hell was he doing? And how did he even find this place anyway? It was small, fairly hidden away and she'd deliberately never told him about it.

An overwhelming surge of annoyance flooded her veins as she took in his appearance. Even though she could only see the back of his head, she saw the ease in which he held himself, could practically feel his smug smirk as he pretended not to see her.

She was going to kill him.

Before her brain could catch up, her legs stormed over to him, her hand reaching out and pulling at his arm roughly.

"Deeks how the hell did you find—" Kensi's voice died in her throat as she jerked away from him, realizing with horror when he turned around that he was most definitely not her partner.

"Oh I'm sorry; I thought you were someone else!" she apologized as heat rose in her cheeks.

"I'm sorry to disappoint," the blond-haired man replied, flashing her a wide grin, his hazel eyes shining with mirth at her obvious embarrassment. The two stood a mere foot apart, staring at one another before Kensi's brain seemed to catch up with her and ordered her feet to step back.

"I—you cut the line," she grumbled, trying desperately to quell the rapidly flowing blood spreading to her face.

"Uh, actually, I ordered ahead...this is kinda my haunt, creature of habit," he replied politely, shrugging his shoulders, looking at her expectedly.

"Then I...I'm sorry again," she murmured, looking at her feet for a moment, before gathering strength and forcing herself to look back into very his unfamiliar eyes.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled widely, his tone oozing with a laid-back nature that also reminded her so much of her partner.

"I've never seen you here before," he commented simply, clutching the brown-paper bag in his grasp as her demeanour relaxed a little.

"Oh uh, I usually order take-out but my friend and I were starving and it was my turn to grab lunch so..." she trailed off, not really knowing what to say in the presence of this uncanny lookalike of a man she knew so well.

"Oh, you're out with your boyfriend?" he asked, his intentions transparent but oddly cute as he smiled at her shyly – an expression that looked alien on someone that reminded her so much of a certain confident detective.

Shaking her head, she forced herself to stop making comparisons between the two. Deeks was just one man in a sea of every-day-looking types in this town full of blond surfers, she assured herself. But this guy? For starters, now that she looked more closely, she realized he was even more impeccably dressed than the standard LA surfer. His jeans were top-end designer, his tee made-to-look vintage instead of just plain old – also costing a pretty penny, and his hair...more salon-styled than 'bed-head chic.'

Problem was, Kensi couldn't decide if she liked any of that or not.

"Uh, no he's...just a friend," she stressed, not knowing why she was doing so for a complete stranger.

The beam she received when he heard that was remarkable.

Oh yeah, that was why.

"Oh, right," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, a little sheepishly.

"So, uh, maybe I'll see you around sometime?" he continued, his voice sounding a little more confident as she returned his soft grin.

"Yeah...maybe..." Kensi felt a blush crawl up her neck, cursing herself, wondering why she was so..._enamoured_ with this guy.

"Okay then," he nodded, his grin widening as he began to walk out of the diner.

Kensi's gaze followed the blonde fixedly, biting her bottom lip as she now got an even better look at his...assets.

"Oh," he said suddenly, whirling around and causing the NCIS agent to jump, startled at possibly being caught checking him out.

"I'm Hale by the way," he jerked his head and shrugged his shoulders, "you know, just in case you were wondering..." he trailed off, now walking backwards with ease, his hazel orbs trained on her.

"Kensi," she replied with a shake of her hand, a chuckle on her lips.

"Kensi..." he murmured, letting it roll on his lips, "good to know. See ya around then...Kensi..."

And at that, he turned away, and strolled out, his hand raised in a half-wave over his shoulder, his golden locks gleaming in the sunshine.

The brunette watched him leave until he disappeared into a throng of beach-enthusiasts, a whimsical smirk on her face. It had been a long time since she'd had one of those semi-flirty conversations with a man that didn't find the need to effortlessly tease her every five minutes. It was kinda refreshing.

Just as that thought left her brain, the shrill tone of her cell-phone sounded from her pocket. Knowing well who it was on the other end, not bothering to check her caller ID, the agent rolled her eyes and shook her head as she answered with an air of impatience.

"Yes, Deeks?"

"Where the hell have you gone for those burgers, Blye? Texas? Did you have to kill the cow yourself or something? What's the hold—"

"There's a long line," she grumbled into the phone, noticing that finally – even after she stepped out of line – she was the next customer.

"Well get your rear in gear road-runner, I ain't got all day," he replied, the teasing tone evident even over the phone.

"Was that an order?" Kensi couldn't help but rise to the bate. He knew how to push her buttons. The bastard.

"Not an order per se, more like a strong suggestion," he smirked, "besides, if you don't get back here quick the popsicles I just bought for dessert will melt..."

"How did you know I was craving popsicles?" she asked suspiciously, finding it odd that he that she'd been craving the iced-dessert for the last few weeks now yet hadn't gotten around to buying any.

"Lucky guess," he replied, sounding a little too smug for her liking, as if he knew something she didn't.

"I'll be five minutes."

Her partner may be an annoyance, but damn did he know her.

* * *

It took just a little under a month of her 'casually' dropping by Rick's Diner and 'happening' to run into Hale for him to finally ask her out. She thought it was cute really, he was being...gentlemanly (a rarity in this age and town) and while Kensi was in the mind-set that chivalry should stay dead, it was invigorating to know that he had the graciousness to give it time. Many men she'd met would have already tried to jump her by now.

"So, pick you up at seven?" he asked, a pleased grin on his handsome, clean-shaven face.

"Uh actually, how about I meet you there? I'll be coming straight from work so—it'd be easier," she suggested, sticking to her first-date-rule, and the for-god's-sake-don't-let-them know-where-you-live rule perfected by one Detective Marty Deeks. But, something told her she may break both, this was a guy she actually wanted to go on a second date with – and that was a damn good impression to make on a woman like Kensi, from only a few conversations in a diner.

"Yeah sure," he replied, "it's a date."

She had the irrational urge to skip back to OSP, a sense of excitement that she hadn't felt in a long time soaring through her veins. As she unlocked her car and climbed in, she smiled softly to herself before pulling out of the parking lot and heading to work. It was gonna be a good day – she could feel it.

* * *

"Ugh, could this day get any worse?" Kensi groaned, craning her neck from side and rolling her shoulders, trying in vain to ease the knot of tension that had settled there.

"Doubt it," her usually chipper partner responded, sounding just as exasperated as her.

"Coffee?" she asked politely, standing up and away from her desk.

"What's the catch?" Deeks asked, his eyes narrowed as he watched her edge towards the coffee station, arms stretched above her head – he averted his gaze accordingly, puffing out a sigh.

"No catch," she smirked at his avoidant eyes, shrugging her shoulders as she turned away to get a cup.

"Uh-huh," Deeks responded sarcastically, his orbs (now back on her) still cerulean slits of suspicion.

Suddenly, a loud chirp of a cell-phone sounded throughout the bull-pen.

"Hey Deeks, could you get my phone? It's probably Callen with an update," Kensi said almost to herself, her back still turned as she filled two cups of coffee.

Deeks leapt up out of his chair and snapped up the phone off her desk, glancing down at the screen.

"Who's Hale?" he pondered, a frown creasing his eyebrows.

Kensi's mouth dropped open, slamming down the coffee cups before she sprinted over to where he stood, bumping up against him as she tried to snatch the phone (that she just realized was her personal one and not her work one) out of his grasp.

"Whoa, whoa," Deeks wrenched his hands away, holding the phone behind his back as it continued to ring.

"Deeks! Give me my phone!" Kensi bellowed, reaching under his arm and around his back with her left hand, glaring at him. The blond smirked cheekily as he switched it to his other hand, forcing his partner to reach around him with her right – effectively embracing him. To the outsider, it was quite the sight, he with his arms behind his back as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Hardly work-place appropriate.

It took precisely 2.3 seconds for Kensi to realise the position she and her partner were in and her polychrome eyes widened in shock, gaping, her head tilted back so she could look into Deeks' expressive orbs. What she saw there angered her, amused her and frightened the hell out of her.

A wide range of emotions passed over her partner's face. She saw hints of shock, delight and something a little...deeper, that she couldn't or wouldn't define.

"Aww, Kens, if you wanted a hug, all you had to do was ask..." the cheeky blond smirked but clever brunette saw right through it. The detective was nervous, incredibly so, to be standing this close to her. She caught him off guard, again. First was the cover kiss at Brett and Polina's home, then again with another cover kiss at The Camden Hotel and now they were pressed together, chest to chest, right in the middle of OSP. Actually, maybe she wasn't as clever as she first thought...eyes and ears were everywhere, she had to get her phone back now!

With a gleam in her gaze, a plan quickly formed in her mind as they stood there, motionless, her arms around him. She knew she'd more than likely pay dearly but, short of shooting him or round-house kicking him in the face, she couldn't see any other way out of this. So, taking a deep breath, Kensi leaned even further into Deeks' chest and flashed him her most sultry grin. As expected, this caused her partner to freeze and stare down into her eyes, a frown forming on his face. She could practically hear the wheels churning in his brain as he tried to frantically summon up some sort of response.

Unfortunately for Deeks, this rapid firing of conflicted messages across his sensory system caused his body to temporarily relax, his arms unclasping from behind his back, just a fraction. But, that was all Kensi needed, and with lightening speed she took the advantage and snatched the phone out of his grasp, wrenching away from him and staring down at the screen. She could feel him staring at her, knowing well that he thought she played damn dirty but couldn't at this point let herself be too concerned about it. No, that came later, when her nightly routine of lying awake in her bed and staring at her ceiling began.

"Hale, hi," she answered, her breath slightly laboured as she adverted her glance from her partner and tried to focus on what her date was saying to her.

"Uh huh," she nodded, one part of her brain registering that Deeks had sat back down at his desk and was shuffling paper-work around.

"Uh huh, okay, great, see you at 8 then," she hung up, biting her lip, almost afraid to turn around and look at her partner. She really didn't know what he was going to say. It was at times like these when he was his most unpredictable.

Slowly, she walked back over to her desk and sat down, keeping her gaze fixed on a spot on the wall just to the side of his head. It would only be a matter of moments now:

_Three_

_Two_

_One_

"Really Kens...Hale?" he began, his eyes finding her, a slightly forced smirk on his face, "you're seriously gonna go on a date with a guy named after the weather?"

**A/N: And here begins the jealous!Deeks trilogy =] I plan to have serious undertones as well as some Deeks hilarity! Thanks again for all the support =]**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"**Hi, I'm Marty," Deeks held out his hand for him to shake.**

"**Hi, I'm Hale," Kensi's date replied, clasping the detective's hand in his.**

"**Huh, look at us..." Deeks turned to Kensi, Hale's hand still in his, "a cop and an accountant, I can save his life and he can do my taxes."**


	12. Brizzle Part II

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 12: Brizzle**

**A/N: So, to make up for missing a couple of days due to being away in the lovely Irish countryside, I've decided to post 2 chapters today. But don't get used to it folks! I do have a life! *Shifty eyes* *Cough* *Crickets* What? I do, I swear! Uh...anyways...**

**This is the second instalment in what I'm calling the 'Doppelgänger Series' – a wonderful suggestion put forward by **_**SunnyCitrus10**_** when she submitted the word. Directly follows chapter 11. This chapter is again dedicated to her. Thanks again! =]**

**Disclaimer: NCIS: LA isn't mine. Neither is jealous!Deeks but wow, he is fun to write about!**

* * *

**WOTD: BRIZZLE; briz****·****zle **_**verb**_**. To scorch near to burning or to singe.**

"I mean seriously, Hale? What kinda name is that?" Deeks grumbled, his foot jiggling as he pursed his lips.

Eric and Nell exchanged a glance, eyebrows raised as they watched the agitated detective pace back and forth in Ops, waving his hands around as he murmured more to himself than to them.

"Uh..." Eric mumbled hesitantly, not really knowing if it was a rhetorical question or not.

"And he's an accountant too! An accountant! Since when does Kensi like suits?"

Nell opened her mouth a fraction before Eric caught her eye and gave a tiny shake of his head. Deeks (unaware of the tech-geniuses' silent communication) continued to wear a hole in the floor, his arms still frantically waving, cutting like knives through the air.

"All I'm saying is, accountants shouldn't have new-wave names okay? They should have old-fashioned and boring names like 'Louis' and 'Edgar' and—"

"Martin?" the voice of his partner asked from behind him, stepping into the room.

Three pairs of eyes whirled around to look at Kensi, who was standing stock-still, arms folded, her gaze narrowed as she stared at her partner. Deeks at least had to decency to look sheepish, shoving his hands into pockets, staring at the floor.

"Uh yeah, Martin's kinda an old-fashioned name," Eric agreed as Nell rolled her eyes at him.

"Yeah well Eric's kinda a stupid name," Deeks growled as he glared at the tech-operative who in turn just stared at him, confusion written across his face.

"Hey Deeks, isn't your real name Martin?" Nell questioned, looking pointedly at Eric, not-so-subtly reminding him what the 'Marty' in 'Marty Deeks' stood for.

Eric's response (bug-eyed embarrassment followed by gaping worthy of a goldfish) would have been hilarious had it not been for the rapidly increasing tension in the room.

"Yeah, technically it is Nell. But the only people who have and will ever call me that was the priest who baptised me and the priest who will—"

"Cryogenically freeze you?" Kensi interrupted, her head tilting to the side, a sharp hilt to her tone.

"Do you remember everything I say?" Deeks asked, his tone too adopting a sharper hilt than his usual teasing tone.

"Just the stupid stuff...so yeah, mostly," the NCIS agent replied, stepping closer to him, a glare furrowing her eyebrows.

Eric and Nell exchanged another worried glance as the partners edged closer to one another, their stares unwavering from the other. They were doing that thing again, where they forgot that there were other people in the room and they weren't the last two human beings in the entire universe. It was getting annoying really...

"So, when is your next date with Mr. Tall, Blond and Boring?" Deeks asked, ignoring the soft groans of Eric and Nell as they were forced to be subjected to another one of the partners' many date-discussions that had been happening sporadically over the last two months.

"Tonight," Kensi replied with a shrug, trying and failing an air of nonchalance.

"Where are you and vanilla-ice going? Auditing seminar?"

Kensi let out a huffed 'ha!' with a shake of her head.

"I'm making him dinner, if you must know..." she snipped as a broad smirk spread across her partner's face.

"Seriously? This coming from the woman who passes off store-bought cookies as her own and burns toast?" he scoffed with a snort, apparently finding the situation highly amusing.

"I'm making him my signature dish actually, something I make quite well," she groused, "not that it's any of your business..." she trailed off, apparently fed up with the discussion, exchanging a fleeting look with Nell who interjects politely:

"Uh guys, we got that surveillance if you wanna take a look."

The partners were then engulfed by their professional mode, both turning to look at the giant screen in front of them. Eric let out a little puff of air before he rolled his chair over to his computer and rolled the tape.

Unfortunately, after the viewing and relevant hypothesizes had been exchanged, Deeks couldn't contain his curiosity anymore, "so, what's your cover?"

Kensi turned to him, her eyebrows raised in question.

"Waitress/aspiring actress? Secretary/aspiring writer? Oh! I got it... sales clerk/aspiring top-less model! That's it, isn't it? Please say yes..."

Her expression went from questioning to annoyed in two seconds flat.

"I'm Kensi Dawson, art-curator. Sexist much?"

Deeks grinned before laughing, shaking his head.

"Art curator? You're seriously still going with that?"

"What? I've brushed up...and besides, he's not that into art and—"

"Wait, you know enough about him already to know he isn't that into art?"

"Well, let's just say, I get the feeling he's more of a dogs playing poker kinda guy."

That seemed to shut Deeks up. For about three seconds.

"His last name isn't Winters is it? Does he hate the Summer time? Wait—is his best friend Rain Man?"

Kensi glared at him before turning on her heel and storming out of Ops, Deeks hot on her heels as Eric and Nell watched their departure with mild interest.

"So, for your anniversary, I'm guessing a weather vane is outta the question?"

The tech-operator and intelligence-analyst heaved simultaneous sighs as Deeks' and Kensi's voices disappeared down the hall.

"Those two are ridiculous," Nell grumbled, a look of impatient exasperation on her face.

"I know, right? And they're so obvious too! Who do they think they're fooling?" Eric replied, staring intently at his computer screen.

Nell glanced sideways at her 'partner' as he said this before shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

Sometimes there were things that just weren't worth saying out-loud.

* * *

Soft glimmers of moonlight illuminated a darkened living room as flashing images zapped across a muted television screen. On the couch directly in front of it, lay a sprawled and slumbering blond man, hair and clothes rumpled from sleep. It had been another tiring day for one Detective Marty Deeks, so much so that he didn't quite make it to his bed before he collapsed in exhaustion.

It was barely past 8pm when he first crashed, half undressed with the full intention of showering and going out for the night. He'd spent the entire day with his partner on a stakeout that ended in a long chase and a gripping gun-fight...just another day at the office of NCIS: OSP. With aching bones, the LAPD liaison bid goodnight to his colleagues and trudged home, mind reeling over the day's events – his partner's plans for the night being one of the most frequent.

Suddenly, the loud vibrations of a ringing cell-phone on silent mode jumped across the coffee table, interrupting the quiet night and catching the attention of a large, scruffy dog. Ears perked up from a dog-bed in the corner before Monty scampered towards his master and licked his hand, nudging him with his head. Deeks' eyelids fluttered as he groaned, slowly waking up.

Monty began to whine as his owner seemingly ignored him and his ringing phone instead shuffling on the couch, burying his head further into it.

"Monty—knock it off," he grumbled, his voice slightly muffled as he pressed his face into the cushions.

Finally, the annoying buzzing stopped as did his dog's whimpering. Deeks heaved an inaudible sigh, willing sleep to come fast and for his rapidly instructive thoughts to stay at bay long enough for slumber to claim him. The universe must have thought otherwise however, as not three seconds after the phone stopped vibrating did it start up again, this time sounding somehow even more persistent.

Deciding that the sooner he answered, the sooner he could go back asleep, the detective groaned and threw out his arm, his hand connecting roughly with the table, his fingers clasping tightly around his phone. Still sprawled face-down on his couch, Deeks answered, not bothering to hide the tiredness in his voice.

"'Lo?" he murmured, one hand raking through his messy hair.

"Deeks?" came the slightly frantic voice of his partner before it was drowned out by a loud, continual alarm.

"Kensi!" Deeks sat bolt upright on his couch as he heard the commotion over the phone, suddenly wide awake, his eyes round and alert.

"Kensi, what's wrong, are you o—"

"Deeks, I'm sorry I—I didn't know who else to call I—" the beeping grew louder as a stream of very creative curses were grumbled under Kensi's breath.

"Where are you? At home? I'll be there in two minutes," Deeks leapt up off the couch, one arm already in his jacket, stumbling towards the kitchen to grab his car-keys.

"No Deeks it's—dammit—" the line went dead.

Ice-cold dread ran down the detective's spine and settled deep in his stomach.

This couldn't be good.

* * *

"Kensi? Kensi come on, open up or I'll have to—"

The door swung open and interrupted Deeks abruptly.

"Whoa," he breathed as his partner – clad in a tight, deep-purple dress, soft, brown hair in a loose bun – was revealed.

"Yeah, yeah, get in here," she rambled, reaching out and clasping Deeks' arm and pulling him into her house and slamming the door behind him.

"Easy there partner, at least buy a guy a drink first," he smirked as she proceeded to pull him further into her living room.

Kensi remained silent and continued to drag him through the room.

"What's goin' on Kens? Where's the fire?" he asked, pondering what the big rush was.

"In the kitchen," she replied nonchalantly, her back still turned to him.

"WHAT? I was kidding!"

Deeks' chest collided with her back as she halted abruptly, letting go of his arm as she threw her own arms up in the air, helplessly gesturing to the kitchen which was now filled with smoke.

"Oh crap, what the hell happened?"

"Fire gremlins came into my kitchen and set fire to the place – what the hell do you think happened?" Kensi scolded sarcastically, opening her oven door wider and coughing as she waved her arms frantically, trying to fan out the smoke.

Deeks smirk spread across his face as he watched her lean over the oven. All of a sudden, he was Justin again and they were playing house, fake-baking cookies and sleeping in the same bed and accidentally pointing guns at little boys...good times.

"I take it this is..._was_ your signature dish?" he asked, gesturing to the smouldering lump of charcoal in a casserole dish on the sink, singed, polka-dotted oven-mitts laying haphazardly beside it.

"How'd you guess?" she murmured pseudo-sweetly, leaning over the sink to open a window.

Deeks' response died in his throat as he watched her left leg bend back slightly, her heel pointing to the ceiling as she leaned. It was then that he realized two things, one – she seemed shorter than usual and two – the reason for that was because she was barefoot. For some reason, seeing her all business up top with the fancy dress and the carefully done hair and make-up, only to have her bottom half more...natural made him smile softly.

In a flourish, she whirled back around, wiping the back of her hand over her brow, blowing out a puff of air, looking a little flustered as small beads of sweat clung to her forehead. It was a cute look on her. The usually calm and collected Kensi a little...out of control. His smile grew bigger.

"What?" she asked suspiciously as she caught him staring, her eyes raking down over dress for a moment, looking slightly unsure of herself before her polychrome eyes met his again.

Deeks adverted his stare quickly, instead darting his eyes around the room, drinking in the sights.

"Wow...this place looks like the 'How Clean Is Your House' people have been through it. You must like him."

The downward infliction in his tone at the end of that sentence was not missed by either of them but was steadily ignored.

"So, where is all your...stuff?" Deeks asked curiously, his gaze squinting as he carefully inspected the place, as if her multitude of random objects would just suddenly appear out of thin air.

Kensi bit her lip and looked around at her abnormally spotless house before her gaze flickered to her closet outside the kitchen door.

"All your stuff's in the closet isn't it?"

"Not a word, Deeks."

"No point, it's all probably escaped to Narnia by now."

The partners shared a laugh at that. Deeks shuffled his feet as Kensi twisted a cloth in her grip.

"Why am I here Kens?" the detective asked gently, his cerulean eyes raking over her face as she stared at her bare feet.

"I—"

The shrill sound of a doorbell interrupted her and the NCIS agent started nervously, eyeing her partner despairingly.

"And—that would be my cue," Deeks gestured over his shoulder and made to go, turning on his heel and making his way back out to the living room before Kensi could utter a word.

Open-mouthed, the brunette stared at his retreating back for a moment before her brain caught up with her and realized just what was about to happen.

_Oh shit!_

She scrambled and stumbled out into the living room but it was already too late. There, standing opposite one another, gaping openly, was her partner and her date, two tall, well-built, slightly-scruffy blonds, one dressed in worn-jeans and leather jacket and the other in pristine black khakis and brown shirt.

Kensi tried not to gawk at the two of them as they stood there in silence, their dissimilar eyes raking over the other with curiosity, confusion and shock.

_Well, this is awkward...think Blye, think!_

"I—"

"Hi, I'm Marty," Deeks interrupted her, apparently recovering from his surprise, holding out his hand for the other blond to shake.

"Hi, I'm Hale," Kensi's date replied, clasping the detective's hand in his.

"Huh, look at us..." Deeks turned to Kensi, Hale's hand still in his "a cop and an accountant, I can save his life...and he can do my taxes!"

Kensi stared at him intently before clearing her throat and gesturing for Hale to come in.

"Hale, come in, De—uh _Marty_ was just leaving," she faux-smiled, deciding to forgo last names, she wouldn't put it past her partner to run a background check on Hale and certainly didn't want the accountant knowing the cop's full name.

Hale stepped into the room, holding out a bottle of wine for Kensi to take. Kensi flashed him a tight grin before her eyes settled back on her partner, trying to convey her meaning through expression.

"Well, I better get going..." Deeks said, turning around and taking a step towards the door, understanding her perfectly.

"So, how do you and Kensi know each other?" Hale's words halted his movements abruptly. Slowly, Deeks turned back around and stared at his partner expectantly.

"He investigated an attempted robbery at the gallery a couple of years ago. We kinda...stayed in touch," Kensi replied, a pointed look directed at her partner before turning back to Hale.

"Uh, yeah, we kinda...clicked," Deeks finished, he too turning his attention to Hale so he could avoid the glare that he was 98% sure was directed at him from the vicinity of a certain brunette.

"Oh! You must be the surfer," Hale laughed, clicking his fingers and gesturing between the partners.

Deeks turned, a little leer on his face as he looked at Kensi keenly.

"You told him about me?"

"Oh yeah, she talks about you all the time," Hale cut in with a grin.

"Is that right?" Deeks tilted his head at Kensi, looking positively gleeful, as if all his Christmases came at once.

"All good things I hope," he continued as his partner walked briskly towards him and began shoving him towards the door.

"Okay, thanks for stopping by Marty—see ya in a couple of weeks," she rambled, shoving him in the back with a particular roughness, her cheeks flushing as he stumbled out the door and turned to look at her, a little..._something_ spread across his face.

Mismatched eyes met a deep blue as Deeks straightened up and Kensi held onto her door. The two were engulfed in a short silence as they stared at one another before Deeks' gaze lingered over her shoulder towards where Hale stood. Gradually, his expression morphed into something different, something a little darker, all traces of his previous mirth gone, as the accountant moved closer to his partner and gave him a small-salute in goodbye.

"Yeah, bye Kens," he half-whispered as Kensi nodded, swallowing roughly before closing the door with a snap, leaving the detective outside in the cold, dark night, staring blearily at where she once was.

Alone.

**A/N: So, yeah, angst-alert! I promise I'll semi-fix it in the next chapter which will be up tomorrow =]**

_**~Ck**_


	13. Keak Part III

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 13: Keak**

**A/N: I'm gonna be honest, this chapter was incredibly hard to write, definitely the most difficult in this entire series. I originally got ¾ of the way through only to scrap it and start from scratch using a different word and POV etc. (So the previous chapter teaser no longer applies to this, I'm afraid.)**

**Maybe what I originally wrote can be used in another chapter so it won't go to waste but nearly all of it has been deleted from this chapter. Anyway, hopefully now I've finally got it right...**

**This is the third and final chapter in what I'm calling the 'doppelgänger' series – a wonderful suggestion put forward by **_**SunnyCitrus10**_** when she submitted the word 'doppelgänger'. This chapter is again dedicated to her. Thanks again! =]**

**Disclaimer: NCIS: LA is only mine in my dreams. In reality? Not so much.**

* * *

**WOTD: KEAK; ke****·****ak _verb_. To cackle**

"And then a purple monkey played the bongos," Hale finished, trying and failing to catch her gaze before giving up and waving his hand in front of Kensi's face.

"Sorry what?" Kensi shook her head, forcing herself out of her haze, her eyes finally meeting his.

"Are you okay? You seem to be in your own world tonight," he murmured, concern lacing his tone as they sat opposite one another, nursing containers of Chinese take-out.

"I'm sorry..." she began, scrambling to come up with a plausible excuse for her absentmindedness, "I'm just annoyed I burnt dinner, I swear, I was only in the shower ten minutes and—"

"It's fine, really, I was craving some take-out anyway," he waved off, his easy-going nature making her almost smile...until the familiar feeling of—something akin to _guilt_ rose in her stomach.

"Marty seemed like a nice guy," Hale commented vacuously, "you know him long?"

Kensi's already uneasy stomach lurched at his words. They only reverberated what she had been trying to ignore all night...the look on her partner's face as she closed her door on him, retreating into her living room with a man who was, by definition, a 'safe option.' She couldn't get the pained look of his bright cerulean eyes out of her mind...her heart panged painfully.

"Yeah he's...he's great. We've known each other a...a long time now."

Hale picked up on her dejected tone and scrambled to lighten the mood.

"Hey, wanna hear a joke?"

Kensi's head lifted at that. Perhaps there was salvaging this night after all. With a soft smile that didn't reach her eyes, she nodded and clasped her hands together expectedly.

"Okay, this is a good one. Uh, so there's this guy, and he's driving to work and he uh...he has to swerve to avoid a box that falls out of a truck in front of him okay?"

Here he paused and Kensi nods frantically to try and move things along.

"Okay well, a cop then pulls him over for reckless driving. He finds the box on the road opens it to find a large amount of upholstery tacks..." he trailed off, a wide grin on his face as he began to chuckle. Kensi frowned, wondering if she'd missed the punch-line but before she could open her mouth, Hale continued:

"'I'm sorry sir,' the cop says to the guy, 'but I'm gonna have to write you a ticket.' Amazed, the driver asks why. 'Well,' the cop replies, 'for tacks evasion!' Ha! Get it? Tacks as in the upholstery tacks? Word-play! Isn't that hilarious? It's like a cop joke and legal joke all rolled into one!" Hale snorts into his mu shu pork as Kensi forces out her familiar creepy cackle, her 'ha!' resonating around the room.

"Good, right?" he asked, a little nervously as she can only barely nod, a fake-grin plastered on her face.

"Um-hum," she replied, throwing in another 'ha!' for good measure.

"That's so cute," he cooed, flashing her a small smile.

"What?" she pondered, confusion flooding her face.

"Your laugh."

With those mere two words, Kensi's world came to a crashing halt. What the hell was she doing? It just hit her now as he said those words, like a ton of bricks crashing into a glass-house full to the brim with fragile china. It was all so obvious now...how could she have been so goddamn stupid? This was all so..._wrong!_

It wasn't real, none of it. This..._thing_ with Hale it was...a _ruse_, a way of tricking her brain into thinking that this is what she really wanted and not...the alternative, the _only_ option that has been in her head (and heart) for longer than she was willing to admit, even to herself. A certain blond detective with a penchant for teasing her laugh flashed across her mind.

Realization seeped into her veins; all she was doing here was playing an elaborate game of pretend with Hale – the man that in some loose way reminded her of Marty Deeks. Although the likeness was maybe not uncanny, on a basic level the accountant did resemble the detective at first glance. But even with that, there were certain aspects of Hale that just felt so..._wrong_ to her, some glaring differences that she overlooked in her haste before.

She leant forward in the chair and let her eyes really take in his appearance. Now that she deeply inspected him she noticed that his hair was too 'done' too 'salon-styled', his eyes too dark, too narrow, his jaw, not quite bearded enough, his shoulders, not quite broad enough, his muscles, not quite defined yet lean enough too.

But it wasn't just his appearance that bothered her. It was his lack of...eccentricity. He really was just your average, everyday accountant who owned nice suits but felt 'rebellious' on the weekend by wearing designer jeans and a made-to-look-vintage t-shirt. He lacked a zest for life, a charisma with pretty much everyone (excluding the LAPD) and most of all...the ability to make her laugh even in the worst of situations. Hell, he couldn't even make her laugh in her own apartment!

All five dates (the last four Kensi went through a ritual of trying to convince herself that she had a good time) had all been the same but in different locations. He'd arrive, they'd exchange pleasantries, he'd compliment her almost to a fault, he'd try and fail to make some apparently-funny quip and she'd pretend to laugh. But this was the first time he'd actually commented on said laugh. And to call it 'cute' of all things? The agent suppressed a shiver...

These niggling thoughts were what was constantly in the back of her mind every time they hung out, she realized now. It was why she was now feeling so _shit_ so..._uncomfortable_ in her own apartment that was once filled with teasing and laughter and fun and..._happiness_. It was Hale...he just didn't _belong_ here. _Didn't belong with her._

This charade, as difficult as it was to admit to herself, was just her perverse way of seeing what being..._romantic_ with her partner would be like without actually having to be _romantic _with her partner. Hale was a cheap substitute for Deeks, his (now that she really looked) bleak resemblance to her favourite LAPD detective was like walking on the wild side. Like taking a glimpse into an alternate universe where she and he could be _partners_ in every sense of the word without any complications.

It was like trying to witness what it would be like to be..._intimate_ with Deeks (even if she and Hale never got that far). Ever since she kissed her partner that first time – that first cover kiss in Brett and Polina's house (and way before that too), these feelings had been coursing through her veins, feelings that she was finding harder and harder to push down into indifference. Or even friendship. No, they were morphing, changing into something..._deeper_, she knew that. Even admitted it to an extent. But listen to it? Hell no. There was no way she'd ever put their partnership, their friendship on the line for something so...what was it really? An attraction? Yes. A curiosity? Sure. A desire? Hell yeah. But, none of those constituted possibly putting the best partnership she'd ever had in jeopardy. So she settled...and was disgusted with herself for it.

Which was probably why she hadn't kissed Hale yet. She knew that he was getting impatient with her, that they'd been on five dates now and all he'd gotten was a peck on the cheek each time but...she just couldn't make herself do it. She knew what would happen if she did. She'd be disappointed. She'd open her two-toned eyes and meet his hazel gaze and her heart would sink, bile rising in her stomach at the sheer wrongness of their colour. She'd shrug off his too-soft, never-worked-a-hard-laborious-day-in-his-life hands and she'd try to rake her fingers through his hair only to find it to be covered in hair product and jerk away, shock and revulsion and grim disenchantment seeping into her veins. No, just...no.

And yet, despite all this, none of these reasons were a damn good excuse to string along this perfectly nice, perfectly boring, perfectly humourless man. She had to end this, and end it now before it went too far.

"Wait...you think my laugh is...cute?"she asked suddenly, biting her lip, awaiting his response.

"Uh, yeah, it's adorable."

"No, no. Weird? Yeah. Creepy? Definitely. But cute or adorable? No, just...no!" Before she knew what she was doing she'd leapt up out of the chair and was shrugging her shoulders as if to rid herself of the erroneousness of the entire situation.

"Kensi are...are you okay?"

Her orbs snapped to his unfamiliar eyes, and sighed. She never liked doing this.

"I—I'm sorry Hale but...this isn't going to work out."

Hale stilled on his journey towards her. Kensi watched intently as something past over his face, his expression morphing from one of ease to one of..._anger_.

"You're kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding?"

His tone was as sharp as knives as he glared at her, an ugly twist to his face.

Kensi started, she didn't expect this.

"I'm sorry Hale, really but—"

"It's that cop isn't it?" he growled, throwing up his hands in vexation.

"What—"

"I knew it, as soon as I saw him. What is this some sick experiment to date a higher class, better-dressed, better-paid version of your crush?"

"Get out."

Kensi's blood boiled in her veins as his insulting words towards her partner rang in her ears.

"What—"

"I said, get out."

The accountant froze, his hazel eyes growing wide at her tone. She knew that it was one of steel, ice-cold and hardened like the stony depths of hell. Good. That's what she was going for. She watched him closely as a fleeting look of panic and..._fear_ flickered across his face.

"But Ken—"

"I won't ask again."

The finality of her tone was evident. The accountant, who now looked more like a frightened blond rabbit caught in headlights than anything (a million miles away from the valiant detective) straightened up and wiped what she guessed were his sweaty palms on his far-too-expensive black khakis.

"I—" he started but his voice died in his throat at the agent's thunderous glare.

With a shake of his head, the accountant cut his losses and made his way to the door, opening it wide and stepping across the threshold, before turning back around and jumping a mile when he realized Kensi was right behind him.

"And by the way? 'That cop' is worth six billion of you..." Kensi growled, pushing him out the door, "and can tell a damn good joke without having to explain why it's funny!" she finished before slamming the door in his face.

Kensi stood motionless, heart-racing as she heard Hale leave, his car starting up and speeding away. After the sounds had been engulfed by the still of the night, the agent finally moved and plodded back over to her couch before sitting down heavily, her heart sinking.

She was so...ashamed. Pissed. Dejected. And to top it all off? There was Deeks' disheartened face again, swimming across her eyes as she closed them, tilting her head back towards the ceiling. She had to make things right with her partner. She had to apologize. She had to tell—fear rose in her chest, a shiver engulfing her body, no, no not that. Make things right? Yes. Apologize? Yes. Tell him...anything? No. She wasn't quite that brave. Not yet.

Shaking her head the agent opened her eyes and heaved a deep sigh – staring at the clock. If she was going to do something to fix the mess she'd made, she was gonna have to do it soon, it was getting late...

With slumped shoulders, she trudged into her entirely-too-clean kitchen and looked around, her eyes catching on something. Slowly, a small smile formed on her face.

She knew what to do.

* * *

Marty Deeks' thumb roughly pressed the button, the images rapidly changing from a cookery show to wrestling to cartoons to finally stopping on some crappy rom-com. Oh yeah, this was just what he needed. Some boy meets girl, boy falls for girl, girl stomps on boy's heart but realizes she was oh-so-wrong and comes running into his willing arms...blah, blah, blah movie. Except, as it wore on, Deeks realized that it wasn't that kind of story at all. For one, the boy and girl didn't meet – but already knew each other, were best friends in fact. And the boy didn't fall for the girl or she for him, they actually floated into love, their friendship morphing organically over the years. And the girl didn't stomp on the boy's heart or he on hers, they just tackled obstacles together and tried their best to survive it. And there was no dramatic running to an airport after realizing that they'd done each other wrong, there was just a quiet moment of raw truth followed by a warm acceptance.

If only life were like that.

A flash of chestnut hair and polychrome eyes filled the edges of his mind before he shoved the image back down roughly with a gruff shake of his head.

Monty whimpered from his spot beside Deeks, his head on the detective's knee, his chocolate eyes staring blearily up at his master.

"What's wrong buddy?" Deeks asked as he glanced down at his canine companion who looked the epitome of heart-broken.

Monty's response was another whimper.

Deeks sighed, running a tired hand down his face before taking another sip of his beer.

"I know buddy...I know," he murmured more to himself as the ending credits of the movie began to roll, the happy faces of two friends in love forever encased in a freeze-frame.

With a shake of his head, the weary cop leaned forward, remote control outstretched to switch off the TV when a sudden knock at his door stopped him in his tracks. With a somnolent glance to Monty, he heaved himself up off the couch, running a hand through his incredibly dishevelled hair as he plodded to the door – a sense of déjà vu overwhelming him.

Slowly, he unlocked the door and held it ajar slightly, just enough for him to see out into the hallway. What he saw there was both surprising and yet unsurprising.

Kensi Blye stood on his doorstep, now clad in sweatpants and a red hoodie, a wicker-basket held tightly in her hands.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Little Red Riding-Hood?" Deeks asked, his tone not quite as light-hearted as he would have liked.

A soft, beautiful smile broke out on his partner's face as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Can I come in?"

For some unfathomable reason, those four short words sounded a hell of a lot more than a request for entrance to his home. They held the weight of regret, sorrow and...hope.

"Uh yeah, sure" he murmured, stepping back and opening the door wider, pushing down the protesting urges that flowed through his veins.

"Hey Monty!" she exclaimed as the dog leapt up off the couch and bounded over to her, his tail now wagging cheerfully.

Deeks smirked and shook his head at his dog; he really was Kensi's biggest fan, present company excluded of course.

"So...what's in the basket, Red?" he asked, scuffling over to his fridge and grabbing her a beer before returning, peering at the basket with interest.

Kensi merely shrugged and held it out for him to take. She hoped this could say the words she could not. The gesture being enough to convey her apology because she just didn't trust her voice at the moment...couldn't find the words to possibly try and explain what she thought, how she felt.

He looked down at it again, eyes narrowed in faux-suspicion before handing her the beer and taking the basket from her.

"Is this your signature dish?" he smirked, eyebrows raised as a pleasant scent wafted from it.

"Nope, there was no salvaging that disaster," she replied, hearing her own double-meaning in her words. By the set of his shoulders, she had the sneaking suspicion that her partner did too.

"I just wanted to...to prove that I can cook something. It's nothing fancy like your delicious Banoffee Pie, but it's something," she murmured, her rose-tinted cheeks half-hidden by her now loose hair that flowed over her shoulders.

Deeks beamed brightly – a familiar exuberance seeping back onto his face as he opened the basket and peeked inside. There was a slight pause as he glanced back up to look at her and Kensi knew then that her message was received - loud and clear. As always, he read her perfectly.

"Snicker Doodles? You actually made these?" he adopted a more light-hearted tone.

Kensi looked up from her perch and nodded shyly.

"No help from Wal-Mart?"

She faux-glared and pursed her lips.

"Oh ye of little faith."

"Just speakin' from experience, Sugar Bear. Where did you get Snicker Doodle incredients at 2am anyway?"

"I have my ways."

"Sounds dirty."

"Deeks!"

"What? You walked into that one, Kens."

Deeks erupted with laughter as she took off her hoodie and threw it at him, calling to Monty, "here Monty—get the big bad wolf, go on, good boy!"

Monty, for his part, merely sat on his ass and watched Kensi and Deeks with interest, eyes darting back and forth between the two, his tail forever wagging.

"That's where you've got it wrong Red, with these dashing looks? Clearly I'm the Huntsman," he smirked, taking one of the cookies in his hand and peering at it suspiciously.

"What're you waiting for, an invitation? Eat it already!"

"Okay, okay, just making sure it was suitable for human consumption," he held up his hands in surrender before slowly lifting the cookie to his lips and taking a bite. With dark eyes trained on him, he chewed attentively, a pensive look on his face.

Kensi watched him intently, seeming rather anxious as she awaited his verdict.

"Wow Kens..." Deeks started, his voice giving away nothing, "these are really..."

Kensi bit her lip, leaned forward in anticipation—

"Chewy."

She frowned.

"Is that...good?"

Deeks chuckled as he continued to chew before finally swallowing and offering her a smile.

"They're good Kens, real good, thank you," he murmured, finding her gaze and holding it.

"Are you okay?" he asked suddenly, plucking out another cookie before putting the basket down on the coffee table.

"What—yeah, I'm fine," she replied, severing their eye-contact.

"Uh-huh...you know what that is Kens?" he pointed towards his badge that sat on the table beside the basket.

She nodded, her eyebrows furrowed, wondering where he was going with this.

"It means I'm a detective...ergo I detect things. And right now? I know you're lying your ass off," he finished, edging over to her and sitting down, holding out the Snicker Doodle for her to take.

She looked down at his hand and clasped the cookie, her fingers brushing over his knuckles. Deeks' eyes followed her fingers as he asked:

"Has this anything to do with your accountant boyfriend?"

"What? No...he's not my boyfriend."

"Then what is he?"

"Nothing."

"Harsh."

"You know what I mean. We—we broke up."

"Why?"

"He...wasn't the one for me."

That was met by silence. Unbeknownst to her, Kensi's fingers had tightened around Deeks' as they spoke.

"Oh. Well, that takes the pressure off me then."

"What! Why?" Kensi's heart hammered in her chest. Surely he couldn't be suggesting—

"I was beginning to run out of weather-related jokes."

The NCIS agent snorted, a sense of relief and a little disappointment seeping into her veins (not that she'd admit it) before an idea came to her.

"Hey Deeks, tell me a joke."

"I just told you I don't have any more."

"Tell me any joke."

"Why?"

"Experiment."

"Kinky."

Another snort erupted from her, the brunette chuckled to herself, rolling her eyes, realizing that the detective didn't even need to tell her a joke – he had the ability to make her laugh all on his own.

"Oh no, don't start that."

"What?"

"Your witch's cackle...I don't need to hear that before bed, thanks."

"Aww, does the little detective have nightmares?" Kensi teased, faux-pouting, secretly never more overjoyed to hear that something she did creeped out a grown man and a cop to boot. That was how it should be.

"Hush witch—you want a joke or not?"

"Amuse me. Just—no cop-jokes, please."

"Okay...so, a guy walks into a bar and says..."

For the next two hours, all that could be heard in the apartment of Detective Marty Deeks was the mingled laughter of two friends, the bark of a jovial dog and the occasional bite of chewy Snicker Doodles.

Everything was right with the world again.

**A/N: I'm still unhappy with this but maybe I'm just a bit of a perfectionist...anyway, I just wanted to convey that Kensi does acknowledge feelings for Deeks (but perhaps hasn't come to the realization of how intensely deep those feelings go) and now that she has to an extent, I can move forward in a more organic fashion...oh wow, my head hurts haha!**

**A review would be lovely!**

**~Ck**

_**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**_

_**"I can't...die...like this..."**_

_**"Just hang on Deeks! I'm five minutes out!" the panicked voice of his partner sounded in his ear as he gasped for breath.**_


	14. Sphallolalia

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 14: ****Sphallolalia**

**A/N: So, something a little more light-hearted & humorous (with a hint of drama) after the whammy of the last series =] It's 'let's embarrass Deeks time' ya'll! :D (To my American friends, I apologize for that...yeah...*cough*)**

**NOTE: There is some time-jumping in this chapter! Hope I didn't make it too confusing!**

**Disclaimer: NCIS: LA is not mine, good thing too, if it was, I'd say Eric Christian Olsen would never forgive me for this...**

* * *

**WOTD: SPHALLOLALIA; ****sph****·****al****·****lol****·****al****·****ia **_**noun**_**. Flirtatious talk that leads nowhere**

"This can't be...happening. I can't...die...like this..."

"Just hang on Deeks! I'm five minutes away," the panicked voice of his partner sounded in his ear.

"Better...hurry partner...I'm...starting to..."

"Deeks? DEEKS!"

* * *

_Five Days Earlier..._

"Nope."

"Deeks—"

"Absolutely not."

"Come on Deeks, it won't be that bad o—"

"You know that for sure, do ya Sam? 'Cause if not, I'm out."

The blond glared at the bald man indignantly, arms folded, shoulders tense.

There was just no way. They couldn't...wouldn't expect him to go through with this. Kensi stood beside him, bumping him gently with her hip, a teasing smirk on her face.

"Look at it this way, at least now you'll be able to show off your musical chops Mr. von Trapp."

"That was Eric not—"

"Whatever Georg," his partner interrupted, holding her hands up to quieten him.

Deeks' mouth dropped open.

"J'accuse! You have seen The Sound of Music!" her partner pointed accusingly with his index finger an inch from her face, his expression scandalised.

Kensi smirked and rolled her eyes, smacking his hand away. Deeks' eyes grew pleading.

"Look Kens, Sam, what about Callen huh? I mean surely he can pass for—"

"Hetty already signed off on you, Deeks," said Sam, a finality to his tone.

"Please, Kens, help me out here—"

"Sorry partner, this is way above my paid grade."

Deeks' gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as he struggled for words. It seemed he was outnumbered. Again.

"Fine..." he sighed, biting his lip, "but I draw the line at wearing ruffles."

* * *

_Three hours later..._

Deeks heaved a deep sigh as he pulled up in front of a large, lavish, Victorian-styled house with gleaming lawns and impressive topiary lined up parallel to each other, designed as chess-pieces – knight's horses, pawns with withdrawn swords– along with various other formidable-looking creatures.

"Who owns this house, The Addams Family?" the detective grumbled as he climbed out of his car into the beaming sun and reached into the back-seat to retrieve a small, leather case.

"Mr. Nathaniel Roberts and his wife Irene – the former being involved in a multitude of gang-related activities, one of them resulting in the death of the son of Aaron Michaels, NCIS Special Agent," his partner informed him from her vantage-point in her car, situated a couple of hundred yards down the street.

"Goodie. Who am I giving lessons to anyway? The bratty eight-year-old?" Deeks asked quietly as he made his way up to the driveway.

"Nope, the kid's away at camp. You're stuck with the grandmother, partner."

She was getting way too much pleasure out of this.

"Oh great, I can add some crazy old woman to my list of enemies," he murmured as he walked past the creepy, plant-statue things, trying not to stare at them too fixedly.

"Why would she be your enemy? You'll do fine, Deeks," Kensi reassured him as he reached up to push the doorbell.

"That's easy for you to say Kens; you haven't heard me play yet."

Before Kensi could reply, a figure came to the door and opened it, revealing a tall, blonde-haired, middle-aged woman with luminous white teeth and questionably wrinkle-free features.

"Can I help you?" she smiled, her face barely moving as she regarded the undercover detective with definite interest – a gleam of mischief in her eye.

"Hi, Mrs Roberts?" Deeks held out his hand as she stared at him, "I'm Danny Davis; I'm here to apply for the position of violin tutor?"

Her answering smile was damn near blinding. And freaky as hell.

"Oh yes, yes, please, Mr. Davis, come in," she shook his hand a little too long before ushering him inside hurriedly, flicking her peroxide-blonde hair over her shoulder, her russet eyes not-so-subtly raking up and down Deeks' body with feral curiosity.

"Thanks..." Deeks murmured, clearing his throat a little and avoiding her ravenous gaze, as he stepped past her and into the large, circular foyer.

"You have a...lovely home Mrs. Roberts," the detective murmured as he felt her move even closer behind him.

"Well, thank you, but please, call me Irene...would you mind me calling you Danny?" she asked, walking around him to halt facing him, her persistent smile plastered across her immobile face.

"Uh, yeah sure, sounds great," he muttered, standing his ground but leaning his torso back a little as the housewife reached forward to run her fingers down his shoulder.

"Looks like you got a fan," Kensi grumbled over the coms, squinting down at the mini-surveillance-screen on her lap that was directly connected to Deeks' button cam.

"Uh, so, am I going to be teaching you Mrs...I mean, Irene?" Deeks' asked, ignoring his partner's jibes and focusing on putting one foot in front of the other as the blonde led him through a large study – Nathaniel's he guessed – and straight outside into the pool area.

"Oh, I wish! God knows I could put those dextrous fingers of yours to work..." she cooed, winking at him over her shoulder.

"I think I just threw up in my mouth a little," Kensi deadpanned in his ear.

Deeks barely contained a grimace.

"Speaking off..." the dye-job blonde suddenly stopped in her tracks and whirled around to Deeks, standing so close to him that he was forced to take a step back.

"How's your fingering?" she smirked, bold as brass, the double-entendre hanging in the air for the entire world to see.

"Well, I've never had any complaints."

Kensi's choked on her coffee as she failed to suppress the surprised gasp that escaped her lips. She could feel her partner's smug smirk as she scrambled to compose herself. That bastard!

"Good to know, Danny, good to know," Irene replied, her sultry tone evident, before calling off to someone in the near-distance.

"Mother! Mother! Your new violin tutor is here!"

Deeks' eyes widened at the sight of the old woman in a wheelchair glaring at him with beady dark eyes, magnified by large, bottle-neck glasses.

"I—I got the job? But you haven't heard me play ye—"

"Nonsense! I don't need to hear anything, I can tell just by looking at you that you know your way around a lotta things..." she trailed off, throwing him another wink before turning all-business, "now, let me give you the tour," Irene motioned for him to follow her, walking towards her mother.

"Good job André Rieu," Kensi smirked, "you're in."

* * *

"I hate this."

"Come on Deeks, you've been on worse assignments."

"Maybe, but at least then I didn't have to deal with Claire the Cougar with her wandering, liver-spotted hands!"

"Yeah, and you thought her daughter Irene was bad..."

Kensi nudged Deeks gently, offering him a small teasing smile.

"Technically, when the woman is old enough to be your grandmother she's called a 'Snow Leopard,'" Eric interrupted the partners, swinging around to regard them from his spot at the computers.

"I don't wanna know how you even know that Eric," Sam grimaced as he and Callen entered Ops.

The tech-operator's cheeks reddened as Nell stared at him for a moment, confusion and something akin to revulsion tingeing her features.

"What Mr. Beale does in his spare time and with whom is none of your concern, Mr. Hanna," the unmistakeable voice of one Henrietta Lange sounded suddenly behind them.

The team all turned to stare at the petite brunette who was standing, hands clasped in the doorway. Nobody dared speak a word.

"Now, Mr. Deeks, care to update us?" she asked, it sounding more like a demand than a request as she stepped further into the room, her hawk-like-eyes trained intently on the LAPD liaison.

"Yeah tell us, did Mrs Robinson touch you in your special place yet, Benjamin?" Sam smirked, punching the detective none-too-likely in the shoulder.

Kensi snorted behind her hand that was held to her face as Callen openly chuckled, Eric and Nell exchanging an amused glance while Hetty rolled her eyes.

"Ha, ha, _The Graduate_, very original, never would have thought of that Sam," Deeks scowled sarcastically, rubbing his arm before turning his attention to Hetty.

"I've managed to secure six cameras in and around the Roberts' house, one in the home-gym, another in the study, one in the kitchen, master bed-room, living room and outside in the pool area. If Roberts is planning another meet with Kline then we'll know about it," Deeks finished, catching the Operations Manager's gaze and holding it.

"Good work Mr. Deeks. The sooner we catch Kline and his men the better, Special Agent Michaels wants to bury his son with the peace of mind that then men responsible for his death have been brought to justice," Hetty nodded grimly before Callen broke the tension with a nudge to Deeks' arm.

"So, tell us Deeks, you naturally that gifted with old ladies or do ya have to work at it?"

Deeks scoffed, shaking his head before replying confidently, his eyes flickering to Hetty:

"Nope, much like the Gaga, I was born this way."

"Damn straight, Mr. Deeks."

* * *

"You know what's funny?" Kensi asked as Deeks made his way out to the Roberts' pool area.

"Milk squirting out people's noses, large men falling over, dogs on unicycles—"

"Even after 'teaching' Claire the Snow Leopard the violin for the past four days, I haven't once heard you play," Kensi interrupted as she pulled up outside the pizza place.

"Yeah well, she's pretty good anyway; all I have to do is help her with her finger positioning."

"Gross."

Before he could reply, Deeks stopped in his tracks as he saw Irene stepping out of the home-sauna, clad in nothing but a white towel and edging her way towards the pool, her self-tanned body glistening with sweat in the afternoon sun.

"Whoa."

"What?" Kensi asked as she stepped out of her car and made her way towards the restaurant to grab some take-out, she'd spent ages cooped up in the car outside the Roberts' residence and the hunger was starting to get to her.

"N-Nothing," Deeks stammered under his breath as he adverted his gaze from the housewife who now noticed his appearance.

"Hello Danny...nice day, isn't it?" she cooed, dipping her Barbie-pink painted toes into the pool before leaning forward – giving the detective quite the sight – and sitting down at the edge. Deeks fought a grimace as he adverted his gaze once more.

"Uh, yeah, it's hot—uh, warm out here," he stammered, his eyes trained on a spot to the left of her head.

"I take it you're looking for my mother?" she asked, apparently none-too-bothered about her state of undress around a stranger as she ran her legs back and forth in the water.

"Yeah, actually, I thought she might be out here, soaking up the sun," Deeks croaked, a slight shudder racking his body as he cast his mind back to the elderly woman's state of undress (tight one-piece bathing suit) yesterday when he arrived...like mother like daughter.

"Oh that woman has soaked up far too much sun over the years," Irene sniped, a hint of bitterness in her tone, "she's actually in her room taking a nap, poor dame just isn't able for it anymore...me on the other hand—"

"Oh well, I better go then, don't wanna be bothering you if Claire isn't feeling well," Deeks interrupted the woman's (what was sure to be highly sexual) remark and stepping backwards to go back inside and out to his car. Mr. Roberts was due to be home any minute and according to the surveillance he and Kensi got yesterday, he would be expecting a very important call from Kline today that would likely lead the partners to their location. Best if he made his way out now.

"Oh no, stay!" Irene exclaimed, leaping up, water sprinkling everywhere as she raced toward him, clutching her towel to her chest. Deeks watched, gaping as she stopped a mere foot away and smiled up at him, her damp hand coming up to rest on his chest.

"You should try the sauna," she cooed, her eyelashes fluttering.

"I really should be—"

"Take her up on her offer, Mr. Deeks," Hetty's voice sounded in his ear from Ops as Deeks tried to hide his surprise.

"Hetty what—" Kensi tried to interject as she stood in line waiting to order her food.

"Ms. Blye is only five minutes away and Mr. Roberts is due home any moment. Perhaps it would be better if you stayed on the premises, waited for Mr. Roberts to receive his call then take point—Ms. Blye being your back-up from the exterior," Hetty asked, it again sounding more like a command than a suggestion.

"I'd love to try your sauna," Deeks forced a smile onto his face as he answered the housewife, a sense of dread seeping into his veins.

This couldn't lead anywhere good.

* * *

_Present_

"Deeks? DEEKS!" Kensi yelled as she sped down the street, her hands gripping the steeling wheel tightly as her foot damn near flattened on the floor.

She didn't know what happened, one minute Deeks was trying out the sauna per Mrs. Roberts' request (and Hetty's orders) and the next he was calling the distress word, his voice strangled as there was some sort of scuffle, other voices shouting loudly over the coms. Then things became barely audible (the steam may have had an effect on the tech), and the last thing the agent heard was Deeks' soft, raspy voice calling out to her.

Her heart hammered in her throat, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she reached the Roberts' house and slammed on the breaks, leaping out of the car and racing up the driveway, snatching her gun out of her holster and beginning her search. Attentively, she edged toward the door, noticing it was ajar before pushing her shoulder against it, cracking it open enough for her to survey the foyer. Finding it empty, Kensi's ears perked, listening for any sign of life.

"Deeks...Deeks talk to me!" she hissed under her breath as she made her way through the house, gun carefully stretched out in front of her. The place was deserted, each room showing up as empty as the next. Rapidly, she made her way through the study and out onto the pool area, finally spotting something – a body, slumped up against the sauna door, not moving.

"Deeks!" she exclaimed, racing forward before a heavy thump wacked her roughly on the back, causing her to stumble forward, gun flying out of her hand. With break-neck speed, the agent spun around, her leg kicking out at her attacker, colliding harshly with a stomach before her clenched fist rammed into a face.

Irene Roberts stumbled backwards, clutching her face as blood ran through her fingers. Kensi took the advantage and advanced on the housewife, but before she could, the blonde brought up the baseball bat that she retrieved from the ground and swung it at her. Kensi ducked and flung herself at the woman, pushing them both into the pool with a loud splash.

With the blonde succumbing to the shock, Kensi quickly gained control, her arm wrapping around her neck, quickly cutting off the woman's air and knocking her unconscious. Once her body slumped against her chest, Kensi dragged the housewife back through the water and heaved her up onto the ledge before pulling herself out of the pool, retrieving her gun and running to towards the sauna, dripping wet, her shoes squeaking loudly.

"Deeks..." Kensi dropped to her knees beside the man that lay against the door, her heart lurching in her chest painfully as she saw the blood pooling on the floor. With shaking hands she turned him over and was shocked to see thin, dark hair covering his head, not a mass of flaxen locks.

She'd found the body of Nathaniel Roberts.

"Deeks!" she yelled, glancing frantically around her, her eyes desperately searching for her partner when something caught her eye. A mass of steam was escaping out under the door of the sauna, engulfing her and the body in intense heat. Her mouth dropped open as she scrambled to push the body out of the way.

"Deeks!" she hollered as she swung the door open, coughing as the heap of steam hit her like a ton of bricks. With bleary eyes she peered in and after a moment her gaze caught on a shock of familiar blond hair on the floor and she stumbled forward, hands outstretched, clasping her partner's arms, dragging him out with a strength she didn't even know she had.

As she heaved him out and onto the ground, she couldn't help but panic when her eyes raked over his reddened body, his skin flushed to a dangerous hue, his chest unmoving. He wasn't breathing!

"Eric! I need an ambulance now," she bellowed as she kneeled on the ground, pinching Deeks' nose and pressing her lips to his, puffing air into his mouth.

"Callen and Sam are five minutes out, ambulance en route," Eric informed her, his voice tinged with worry.

After a few more puffs of air, Kensi saw Deeks' brow furrow and gasp in oxygen. Attentively, she reached out a hand to his chest, worrying as she felt the sheer heat radiating off it.

"Kens..." he grumbled softly, his eyes still closed as Kensi stood up and propped him up against her legs, her arms wrapping around his abdomen as she began to drag him backwards.

"What—"

"I gotta cool you down," she interrupted softly as she halted suddenly and jumped into the pool, dragging her partner down unceremoniously on top of her, pulling him tightly to her chest, making sure to keep his head above water.

Deeks gasped at the sudden sensation, his arms flailing as he struggled to float as Kensi's grip loosened a little, her neck craning to the side to allow his head to rest on her shoulder.

"It's okay, I got you," she murmured softly as she stood in the pool in her clothes, her partner half-floating, half-crouching, his back flush against her.

"Wha—what happened?" he asked, still confused as his eyes shut to shield themselves from the sun's glare.

"I think Mr. Roberts came home and got the wrong idea about you and his wife," she replied, as she heard the distinct signs of sirens in the distance.

"I can see that," the detective agree, a hint of mirth in his tone.

"Are you wearing underwear?" his partner asked suddenly, forcing her eyes to stay above the water as it hit her that he was clad in nothing but a towel when she dragged him out of the sauna.

"What?"

"Under your uh...towel..." she gestured under the water to his lower extremities that remained shrouded blur under the water.

A flush (that had nothing to do with the heat) crept up Deeks' neck.

Kensi looked down at him, the awkward angle hurting her neck, her eyes widening at his expression.

"You're...naked?" she exclaimed in shock, now incredibly aware of how close they were, knowing well that there was no way the towel could possibly still be tied around his waist while submerged in water. _Oh god..._

Deeks cleared his throat nervously, looking sheepish.

"Well...yeah, it's a private sauna—"

"That belongs to your employer!"

"Fake employer...and she said it was okay for me to go au natural."

"I'm sure she did."

Before another word could be uttered the sounds of Sam and Callen (along with EMTs) entering the premises interrupted them. After a moment, Kensi saw them come out into the pool area, guns drawn, before halting abruptly, gazes widened as they took in the sight before them.

"Hey guys," Kensi said, trying and failing an air of nonchalance as Deeks peered at them with bleary eyes, his head still planted at the nape of her neck, "little help?"

The two men exchanged an amused glance before making their way towards their colleagues.

"Oh," Kensi said suddenly, halting them in their tracks, a flush creeping onto her cheeks, "could you get the clothes by the sauna first? We're gonna need some pants."

* * *

An incessant knock reverberated through the apartment, disrupting its quietness. With a groan, the blond detective heaved himself up off the couch and made his way slowly towards it and opened it wide, knowing well who it was.

"You should be in hospital," Kensi growled, storming into his apartment and whirled around, hands planted firmly on her hips as he closed the door and locked it.

This really was getting to be a rather regular occurrence.

"Really?" Deeks replied, shuffling past her and easing himself gently down onto his couch, looking up at her. "You're gonna lecture me about staying in hospital Ms. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds?"

"I was allowed leave! You discharged yourself!" she exclaimed angrily, before plonking down into the armchair opposite him.

"I'm fine Kens, just a little...over-cooked," he smirked.

There was a short silence at that as Kensi's concerned gaze raked over him.

"You're not funny," she grumbled gruffly.

"Oh come on, I'm a little funny...you get the low-down from Sam and Callen?" he asked, feeling a change of topic was needed.

Kensi took the bait with a withering glare.

"Yeah, Roberts was taken to hospital and woke up about an hour ago, took a plea and told them everything. Kline and his men were apprehended by LAPD at a warehouse about six blocks from Kline's residence. Sam and Callen took point and brought him to the boat-shed where he copped to the trafficking but maintained he'd nothing to do with Dale Michaels' murder..."

Deeks brow furrowed.

"So who killed him then?"

Here, Kensi's gaze grew grim.

"Irene Roberts. Apparently she and Michaels' were having an affair that went south and she lost it when he began to blackmail her, threatening to tell her husband," she paused, watching as her partner tried to lean forward to retrieve water from his coffee table.

She reached out and clasped the bottle before handing it to him smoothly. His fingers brushed hers tenderly as his cerulean eyes met her polychrome ones, holding them for a moment before he took and sip.

"Anyway," she continued, the moment passed, "I had a talk with Roberts and he admitted that when he got home and saw you..._using the facilities_...he assumed that you were the one that he suspected his wife was having an affair with. But, before he could approach you, Irene hit him over the head with a baseball bat, causing his body to fall against the sauna, trapping you inside. That's about when I showed up and distracted her," she finished with a wince as she straightened her back, the sore spot where the blonde hit her with the bat rubbing against the chair.

Deeks grimaced as he saw her wince and handed her an ice-pack that was lying beside him.

"Oh you need it more than me Deeks, you got baked from the inside out today," she waved it off, smirking at his scandalised expression.

"Oh so it's okay for you to joke?"

Kensi merely nodded, a small grin forming on her face when something caught her eye. A distinct leather-case propped near her partner's feet.

"That your violin?" she asked, motioning towards it.

"No, it's an umbrella," Deeks replied sarcastically as his eyes locked on the conspicuously shaped object.

Kensi rolled her eyes when a thought hit her.

"Hey, I still never heard you play..." she trailed off, letting the detective catch her drift.

His eyes bulged before darting to the case and back to her.

"Seriously?" he croaked nervously.

"Only if you're feeling up to it," Kensi assured, worrying that he could still be in pain.

"I—yeah, okay...least I could do for the woman who saved my life," he murmured and before he could even try, Kensi leapt forward and grabbed the case, placing it on her lap and opening it widely.

An old but well-kept violin was revealed, it shinning softly in the dim-light of the apartment. Kensi smiled as her eyes drank it in before her gaze snapped back to her partner – catching him in his pensive stare, watching her with his instrument with an enigmatical expression on his face.

"Any requests?" he asked quietly, hands outstretched and taking the violin from her, placing it under his chin and holding out the bow.

"Surprise me," she murmured lightly, eyes gleaming delightfully in anticipation.

With a small smile, the detective took the bow and ran it gently over the strings, his fingers perfectly positioned as the wonderful tones of the familiar classical _Clair de Lune_ began to fill the apartment.

Kensi watched and listened in awe, her eyes glued to him.

She had never heard (or seen) anything more beautiful in her entire life...

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: So, up next is a continuation of the NCIS: LA & Hawaii Five-0 crossover (from chapter 2) – where the Five-0 boys come back to LA after a sighting of Delano catches the attention of NCIS: OSP. **

**OW! OW! My hands are cramping now! Holy crap that was LONG! Lol.**

**I'd absolutely LOVE a review =]**

**~Ck**

**_NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:_**

**_"How do you know this isn't a costume?" she asked, reaching into her closet and pulling out a pair of jeans._**

**_"You make it a habit of dressing up like a member of The Slutty Sleepover Club?"_**


	15. Yegg Part I

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 15: Yegg (Part I)**

**A/N: So, here's the first proper instalment in the crossover =] I can't even begin to tell you guys how fun this was to write! Believe it or not, H50 is actually my first love (fun fact: I actually watched 5-0 first *gasp*), but for some reason, I found the characters harder to write than the NCIS: LA gang. Weird. Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

**SPOILERS: For general NCIS: LA & Hawaii Five-0 but especially the 5-0 S2 finale!**

**NOTE: They will be some summarising (the s2 finale) and some speculation of what might come in s3 of H50 but it's all just so the story will flow better and help those that maybe don't watch H50 have an idea what's going on.**

**Disclaimer: Neither NCIS: LA nor Hawaii Five-0 are mine. But if they were, I'd have a ton of crossovers; Deeks and Danny are just too damn fun together! =]**

* * *

**WOTD: YEGG; **_**noun**_**. A criminal, felon, law-breaker**

Nell Jones dragged a palm down over her weary face, rubbing her eyes as she suppressed a yawn. She and Eric were burning the midnight oil, updating the entire system of OSP; and unfortunately for them, it was neither fast nor easy work. With another bleary glance at her watch, her hazel eyes widening at the time, the intelligence-analyst decided that fresh cup of coffee was in order. Standing up, she took a long stretch, her bones cracking and popping loudly in the otherwise silent room. With a grimace, she leaned to her left and smacked a certain bespectacled blond on the back of the head with her palm, chuckling as he leapt up as if he'd been electrocuted.

"Wha—what? I'm awake! Don't tell Hetty!" Eric Beale half-yelled, eyes still shut, startled by a soft thud to the skull.

"Relax Beale, it's just me," Nell chortled as he groaned, shaking her head in amusement at his now incredibly rumpled hair.

"Geez Eric, you better fix your hair before Deeks gets in, he'll think you're trying to steal his look," she teased, before picking up her coffee cup and nudging him, "you want a refill? I'm going downstairs to stretch my legs." They were taking a way on the wild-side tonight, bringing coffee and Oreos into Ops – a well-deserved reward for all their hard work, learning from past mistakes and hiding the evidence for when Hetty got in. They were daring, not stupid.

Eric nodded murmuring a "yes, please," before heaving a sigh and spinning in his chair, his back now turned away from his computer. It had been one hell of a night. The guys had just got off a case that lasted a full two weeks and trudged home to get some much needed sleep. Eric and Nell didn't have the same privilege however; they still had a couple of hours left until the complete update.

Taking off his glasses, the tech-operator rubbed his tired eyes and yawned deeply before a sharp beeping noise grabbed his attention. With a furrowed brow, Eric swung back around, his eyes now completely alert as he read the notice flashing across the screen.

"Nell!" he yelled, "quick! Get back up here! We need to call the guys, now!"

* * *

The shrill sound of a ringing cell-phone broke through the hazy subconscious of one Kensi Marie Blye as she lay, on the edge of sleep, in her bedroom. With a groan, she rolled over on her side and shoved a pillow over her ear. She'd just gone to sleep less than an hour ago; it couldn't be time to go to work already!

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the ringing stopped and the agent pondered if it ever really rang in the first place. It could have been just a figment of her exhausted mind...yeah, that had to be it. Sleep time was now...now she could sleep...

The loud rap of knuckles on a door sounded through her home an indecipherable amount of time later, again breaking through the fog of her subconscious. The brunette buried her face in her pillow, her brow furrowed. Whoever it was could go away, she'd deal with them later.

Before that thought could fully leave her brain, a soft whisper broke the otherwise silent room.

"Kens—"

In one foul swoop, Kensi swung her leg out of the bed and towards the sound of the voice, it colliding with something solid as she grabbed her gun from her bedside table and pointed it into the darkness, now completely alert as her eyes fought to adjust to the gloom.

"Je—Jesus Kens...it's me," groaned a very familiar, very pained voice.

Scrambling, the agent fumbled around until she found her lamp and switched it on, blinking as light flooded the room, illuminating a man that now was kneeling on the floor, clutching his stomach, a few feet from her.

"Deeks? What the hell are you doing? How did you get in here?" she exclaimed, glaring as he struggled to stand up.

"You...weren't answering...your phone," he gasped, clearly still winded by her kick.

"So you decided to break into my house?" she half-yelled, throwing her arms up in disbelief as she swung her other leg out so she could sit on the edge of her bed.

"I...didn't break in...you gave me a key...remember?" he grumbled, holding out the spare key that she had indeed given him some time ago.

"That was for emergencies Deeks! Not for your own perverse—"

"Whoa, whoa, there's nothing perverse about this," Deeks assured her, straightening up, having finally caught his breath.

"Then I'll ask again, what are you doing here?" she frowned, folding her arms.

"Eric wants us in, apparently it's urgent, says he's been calling you for the past half-hour with no answer. So, I thought you know, being your partner and all, I should be the one to check you out—check out you...were okay," he amended, a flush rising on his neck as his eyes wavered over her skimpy sleep-wear.

Kensi caught him and looked down at herself, a blush colouring her cheeks.

"And...you're a liar," he continued, gesturing to her with the hand that wasn't still lying attentively on his abdomen.

"What?" she hissed, standing up and away from her bed, deliberately not looking at him, not thinking about the fact that he was in her bedroom. She walked over to her closet and flicked through it.

"You don't sleep naked," he said evidently, and without turning around she could tell that stupid smirk was plastered across his face.

"How do you know this isn't a costume?" she asked, reaching into her closet and pulling out a pair of jeans.

"You make it a habit of dressing up like a member of The Slutty Sleepover Club?"

"You know Deeks, you were lucky; a couple of inches south and you wouldn't have been able to father children. Keep talkin' like that and next time I won't miss."

* * *

The partners stormed into OSP precisely seventeen minutes later, climbing the stairs and entering Ops, seeing that the rest of the team had already gathered there.

"What's going on Eric?" Deeks asked, cocking his head to the side, his narrowed eyes raking over the tech-operative's messy hair that was standing up at all angles.

Eric's hand jumped up to flatten down his blond mop before he cleared his throat and gestured to the large screen, a series of photos popping up, all of the same person in various locations.

Seven sets of eyes widened as they looked at the man they'd only seen in photographs and heard about through the criminal grapevine.

"Well Mr. Beale," Hetty murmured, her finger reaching up to tap her chin, "I think it's about time we contacted our friends from the 5-0 taskforce. I'm sure they'll want to know that we found Mr. Delano..."

* * *

_McGarrett Home, Oahu Hawaii 1:39am _

Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett shuffled around a cluster photos that were laid out on his desk, illuminated by the soft glow of a reading-lamp. He had raked over them so much over the last two and a half years that they were firmly imprinted on his brain. In fact, he could close his eyes right now and they'd still be there, clear in his mind's eye, permanently indented behind his eyelids, taunting him.

With a small sigh, the idea of closing his eyes began to ensnare him, his gaze drooping as his body ached from the gruelling day he and his team had tracking down an arms dealer working out of a string of restaurants in down town Oahu. Along with that and the fact that he hadn't been sleeping well for...quite a long time now, just added to his body's desire for rest, his mind on the other hand – was an entirely different matter.

Even since he journeyed back from Japan for the last time, over four months ago, sleep and he were like ships passing in the night. He'd manage a doze or two but even for a Navy-trained man like himself, it just wasn't enough. But he had better things to worry about than his own problems with sleep (or lack of it) due to the recent events (that stem from events that weren't so recent) no, there were bigger games afoot.

Coming home that last time had been like walking into a nightmare. Not only was he 'welcomed' back by a pissed off, arm-flailing, worried-ranting partner, but he'd also stepped into a crisis involving one-half of his team. Frank Delano, a dirty ex-cop that Kono's undercover work help put away for murder, attempted robbery and a whole host of related charges, had coerced Chin into getting him released from prison, before presenting him with the ultimate choice, the life of his wife, or the life of his cousin.

While Chin had managed to get Malia to a hospital in time and Kono (being a strong swimmer) managed to free herself with no more than a few ligature marks, Delano had still escaped, disappeared into the gloom without a backwards glance, he and his associates well and truly in the wind.

For the last sixteen weeks, both Chin and Kono wore themselves right down to the wick, burning the midnight oil and pouring over reports and sightings and witness reports and old case-files and everything they could get their hands on related to or revolving around the ex-cop and his minions as Steve and Danny tried their best to help. It was then, that they caught a break, as whispers floated around (and were dutifully picked up by one large, scrimp-selling Hawaii native) that Delano was in bed with some ex-Marines that were doing shady deals both in Hawaii and in various other locations around the country.

The word 'Marine' seem to awaken something in Steve's partner as he excused himself one day and shut himself up in his office for over an hour to 'make a few calls.' McGarrett tried to keep his distance, he really did, but like in most cases involving his partner, he found that he failed rather quickly...resorting to eavesdropping outside Danny's office and feigned ignorance when he was rapidly caught. Apparently his 'Army-ninja-sneaking-skills' needed some work.

It was after this verbal-bashing from his beloved partner that the Navy SEAL was informed that while he was away 'playing the Caped-Crusader' in Japan, Danny and Chin had made some friends (the type with connections) in NCIS: Office of Special Projects in Los Angeles and it was one of their agents that he'd just got off the phone to.

This of course, prompted Steve to question why Danny had failed to mention this before (he had been home for over two weeks at this point) but the cheeky, Jersey-native merely reminded him that the SEAL was too busy throwing his nemesis Wo Fat in prison and gallivanting off with Joe White into the unknown for him to get a word in edge-wise. Steve wisely refrained from retorting that Danny never had a hard time getting a word in anywhere...it was best to stay on his good side after all (or as good a side as he could manage at least).

With a small grin, Steve shook his head as his mind raced over the last few weeks, his hands gathering up the dozens of photos and placing them back into a red-box. Slowly, he stood up and reached over to turn off the reading-lamp when the shrill vibration of his cell-phone sounded on the desk.

With a furrowed brow, Steve glanced down the screen that read 'BLOCKED' and pressed the accept button cautiously.

"McGarrett," he answered, his voice gruff from being silent for so long.

Gradually, as the voice at the other end of the phone began speaking and continued to do so for a long moment, Steve's face morphed into one of steely determination, adrenaline flooding his veins.

"We're on the next flight," he assured, before hanging up and immediately pushing number 1 of his speed dial.

It took only two rings before someone answered.

"If you're calling to tell me you're jettin' off to Timbuktu I will kick your ass McGarrett, I swear to—"

"Danno!" Steve interrupted what was sure to be a lengthy rant, "they found him. They found Delano...put your pants on, we're going to LA."

**A/N: Okay so, change of plans. I decided to stop it here (because it really was getting HUGE) and post this before moving on to the next chapter that – if I do this right – should be up by tomorrow or the next day. It's there that you will see the beginnings of reams of banter, teasing and partner arguments/carguments as well as jealous!Kensi =]**

**SORRY! I just decided to make this the introduction chapter so I can focus more on the juicy stuff in the next 2 =]**

**A review would be lovely =]**

**~Ck **

**PS: To make it up to you guys- **

_**NEXT CHAPTER (AND THE ONE AFTER) TEASTER:**_

"_**I was in love with a Melissa once," Deeks told the stranger, "back when I was a different man. We were even married for a short time – lived in this nice, big house...it was...bliss," he trailed off, warmth and sorrow in his voice. Kensi gaped, not believing what she'd just heard. Surely it was all for the op...right?**_

_**Deeks' eyebrows rose at Steve.**_

"_**Babe?"**_

_**Steve folded his arms, his stance a little defensive.**_

"_**It's a Jersey thing."**_


	16. Tortfeaser Part II

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 16:**** Tortfeaser (Part II)**

**A/N: Part II/IV – where the real fun starts! Dedicated to **_**SuperDensi427**_**, thanks for all your encouragement and helpfulness! Hope you (and everyone else) like it! =] More obvious jealous!Kensi coming up in the next chapter! :D**

**SPOILERS: For both series!**

**Disclaimer: Seriously guys, wish I did, but I don't.**

**Time-Line: Oh and if people are wondering, I don't know if I mentioned this before, all the chapters in this series are based post-season-3 of NCIS: LA. I know I haven't dealt with the fallout of **_**Sans Voir**_** (Callen's arrest, Hetty's resignation etc.) but regardless the chapters are still set firmly in the future, when all has been resolved (as we know it will be in some shape or form). I may approach the finale issues properly sometime in the future though, depending on general consensus...**

* * *

**WOTD: TORTFEASER; **** tort****·**feas**·**er _**noun**_**. A wrongdoer**

"And seriously—that's what they call food? And what was with that stewardess? I thought she was gonna climb onto your lap at one poin—"

"Our bags," Steve McGarrett interrupted his partner's rant abruptly; nudging him with his elbow, before leaning to the left and clasping the three bags in one go, effortlessly heaving them off the conveyor belt as if they were as light as a feather.

"Neanderthal," Danny murmured as a tall, dark-haired woman jogged up to them, pulling a backpack over her shoulder.

"Danny still complaining about the flight, boss?" Kono Kalakaua asked with a haughty grin, her eyes gleaming as she took her bag from him.

"Don't be smug Kalakaua, you're sitting next to him on the flight home," McGarrett informed her as Danny wrenched his bag from his hands, a pointed glare directed at his partner.

Kono chuckled as she followed the two partners – who were now well in the midst of another one of their infamous bickering sessions – when a voice caught her attention from a couple of hundred yards away.

"Well, if it isn't Steve 'Smooth-Dog' McGarrett," Sam Hanna smiled widely as the 5-0 team neared one-half of the NCIS: OSP team.

"Well if it isn't Sam—"

"Don't you dare," Sam interrupted the taskforce leader with a grin and a hand-shake before pulling him into a short, masculine hug. Kono, Callen and Danny watched on as the two SEALs embraced, laughing and slapping each other on the back before turning to their friends.

"Steve McGarrett, I'd like you to meet my partner G Callen," Steve and Callen exchanged nods and shook hands before Steve turned to his companions, "Sam, Callen, this is Officer Kono Kalakaua and I think you guys already know Danny."

The NCIS agents laughed as they shook Kono and Danny's hands, the blond detective offering them a wry grin.

"Nice seein' ya again Detective...how's Winifred?" Sam asked as they made their way out of the airport.

Steve's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he caught his partner's eye. Danny shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Don't ask."

* * *

"And this, is the Office of Special Projects," Callen announced as the party of four entered the building.

"Nice," Kono commented, her eyes raking around the impressive building, as they were approached by a tall brunette, a blond with a scruffy beard and a petite bespectacled woman.

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," the bespectacled woman called as she halted in front them, staring at him over her glasses.

"Operations Manager Hetty Lange, I've heard a lot about you," Steve replied, shaking her hand and holding her gaze.

"All good I hope," Hetty murmured, her hawk-like-gaze flickering to the Jersey-native for a second before settling back on Steve.

Steve and Danny exchanged a meaningful glance.

"Sure. All good things," the SEAL assured her with a small smile before a sharp, loud whistle sounded from above.

Eight pairs of eyes darted up to where a blond young man was standing looking a little sheepish.

"Uh...you guys might wanna see this," Eric mumbled before high-tailing back into Ops.

With soft murmurs, many feet climbed the stairs with Hetty taking lead. In the crowd, Deeks found himself beside Kono with his partner and Danny closely behind – already in the throngs of a conversation. With a friendly smile the LAPD detective offered his hand for her to shake as they ascended the stairs.

"Officer Kalakaua, I'm Detective Marty Deeks, LAPD Liaison with NCIS: OSP."

"That's a lot of letters," Kono quipped, flashing him a smile.

"Tell me about it," he laughed as they entered Ops, all halting around the large, square table that stood in the middle of the room, eyes trained on the mounted, rectangular screen in front of them.

"Mr. Beale, Ms. Jones, meet the 5-0 taskforce, Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, Officer Kalakaua and you remember Sergant Detective Williams," Hetty called as she halted at the tech-operator's side, "I take it Lieutenant Kelly remained back at your headquarters?" she asked the Hawaiian team gently.

Steve exchanged a look with his team-mates before nodding grimly.

"Due to the circumstances, I thought it would be best if Chin remained home with his wife. We will keep him in the loop though, he wants Delano just as much as the rest of us...if not more," he responded dourly, folding his arms and directing his attention to the screen.

"Indeed," Hetty replied before nodding to Eric, "Mr. Beale, if you would..."

Eric leapt to attention, tapping rapidly on his tablet to bring up a multitude of grainy photographs, each containing a face that was incredibly familiar to 5-0.

"That's Delano alright," Danny murmured, dragging his palm over his stubbled chin.

"Got an ID on the others?" Steve asked, motioning to the various faces that were pictured alongside the ex-cop.

"Running facial recognition as we speak, so far most of the images are too hazy to get any distinct features but we're hopeful," Nell replied, her eyes flickering from the SEAL and back to the screen.

"Any way of determining his location in from the pictures?" Kono asked, a gleam of determination lining her face as her shoulders set.

Here, Eric nodded vigorously and widened one of the images with his fingers. It was the exterior-shot of an alleyway, a large truck in the upper-right corner that was being loaded with boxes. To the left, turned slightly, stood one Frank Delano, seemingly over-looking the proceedings as a large man stood to his right.

"If you look here," he paused to point at the lower left-side of one of the photos, "you can make out a logo on one of the boxes. It appears to be for the company 'Loshaw' a printing business...thing is, when we looked into it, we couldn't find any records, invoices, nothing in their files that would suggest any importing or exporting to anywhere in Los Angeles..." Eric trailed off, as ten pairs of eyes stared at the screen, each coming to the same conclusion.

"Gotta be a shell corporation, right?" Deeks asked nobody in particular.

"Which begs the question," Kensi continued, stepping forward to regard the photos more closely, her eyes narrowed, "what's in the boxes?"

Callen moved to stand beside her, arms folded tightly, "there's only one way to find out."

* * *

"Yo, Williams, head's up," Deeks called as he threw a set of keys at him. Danny caught them swiftly before turning on his heel and immediately tossing them to McGarrett who seized them mid-air, a smug smirk on his face.

Deeks and Kensi exchanged a confused glance before directing their raised eyebrows at the partners.

"What?" Danny asked, before angling his gaze towards Steve, "you never let me drive my own car Steven, why would I think a rental would be any different?"

"And you never let me pick the radio station Daniel, I'm guessing Los Angeles won't be any different?"

"Damn straight. You know what Dr. Hook here thinks is good music?" he asked, his eyes flicking to the NCIS partners before focusing back on the SEAL, "'Sexy Eyes', I mean seriously...suicide for the ears..."

"And Springsteen isn't?"

"You take that back."

"Nope."

Steve rolled his eyes as Danny glared at him, storming out, half-yelling over his shoulder the very familiar 'my partner has control issues' rant, followed by the 'you wouldn't know good music if it slapped you in the face' rant followed by the 'all good things hail from Jersey' rant, complete with arm-flailing and overly-punctuated words as they made their way out the door.

"Huh," Kensi murmured to herself as she watched the pair.

"What?" Deeks asked, a whimsical smile on his face.

"Nothing, just...never thought I'd see the day where Sam and Callen are out-bantered."

"Yeah, it never gets old," a voice sounded from behind them. The partners turned to see Kono grinning manically as her eyes followed her co-workers.

"Mind if I ride with you guys? It may never get old but it can make you seriously rethink careers if you're stuck in the back-seat. They need a therapist and a referee, and I'm neither," the officer laughed as Deeks and Kensi joined in.

"Sure thing Kalakaua, you stick with us and we'll show you a good time," Deeks replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

"That a promise, Deeks?" Kono winked before chuckling, following him out.

Kensi's eyes darted between the two for a moment, as they laughed and walked side-by-side in front of her, biting her lip, a frown creasing her forehead.

* * *

"Well, that was a bust," Deeks murmured as he, Kensi, Kono, Danny, Steve, Sam and Callen trudged back into OSP an hour later.

"Yeah and not the good kind," Danny replied, plonking himself down in one of the extra chairs that Nell thoughtfully laid out in the bull-pen.

The rest of the team settled themselves at their desks and respective seats, a silence hanging over them. They really thought this may have been their big break, when they came up empty; it was disappointing to say the least.

"Think they knew someone was onto them?" Kono asked suddenly, "Delano can be a slippery that way, had cops on his pay-roll back in Hawaii, he coulda got a tip-off from someone in LAPD and cleared out."

"Maybe," Callen agreed, "but a guy like him always has a plan B, has his fingers in many pies."

"I'm sure he does," Deeks mused with a suggestive smile as Kensi rolled her eyes and muttered "but how do we find him?"

Not a millisecond after the words left her mouth, the familiar high-pitched whistle sounded from above.

"Guys, we got an ID on one of Delano's men," Eric called as the large team jumped into action.

"Meet Louis Macintyre, 27-years-old, fresh outta jail after a five-year stint for an attempted bank robbery," Nell informed them as they entered Ops, before enlarging one of the pictures, it matching perfectly with the mug-shot of a young, bespectacled, bushy-haired blond male with olive eyes.

"Doesn't look like a hardened criminal," Kensi commented as she looked over the somewhat nerdy appearance of their suspect.

"According to his record he isn't. Before being sent down back in '07, he never got as much as a parking ticket."

Seven pairs of eyebrows rose at that.

"Quite the leap," Callen murmured, "model citizen one day decides to rob a bank, gets sent down and not two months after he's released jumps into bed with a dirty ex-cop?"

"That's how we got Delano, he tried to rob The Bank of Oahu," Kono chimed in, "he could be trying the same thing here."

"Sounds like something we should ask our friend Louis," Deeks offered before turning to Nell, "any idea where we could find this guy?"

The intelligence-analyst grinned, "as a matter of fact, I do. Word is, one of his haunts is a bar you guys have been to before – Club Hell."

Deeks and Kensi exchanged a meaningful glance.

"Alrighty then," the LAPD liaison murmured, rubbing his hands together, "let's pay Napoleon Dynamite here a visit, shall we?"

* * *

It was under the glow of the full moon and across the street from 'Club Hell' that Kensi, Deeks and Kono found themselves cooped up in the car, awaiting their cue. It was getting late, right around opening time and Deeks was set to enter the bar any minute. Eric and Nell had gotten a lock on Macintyre, ran his car through the kaleidoscope and found it half a block from the club. Placed sporadically around the parameter were the three teams, Kensi's car across the street, Sam's just adjacent and Steve's at the alley.

With a heaving sigh, Marty Deeks dragged a hand down his face, stifling a yawn as he sat in silence with the two women. They'd been sitting there, motionless for the last twenty-five minutes and anyone that knew the detective knew well that he didn't do motionless or silent well. It wasn't long before he broke the silence, not for the first time:

"So, I hear you got a personal history with Delano?"

Kono's head rose at that, her dark-eyes catching his in the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah, I worked him undercover. He ran a ring of dirty-cops and was planning a bank heist, leaving bodies in his wake. I was hired by his ex-partner, an Internal Affairs officer named Fryer, to infiltrate his gang and gain his trust. Once I did, he led 5-0 to the Bank of Oahu and was arrested. A couple of months ago, the bastard decided to get his revenge... by using my cousin. His guys attacked Chin's wife while another put me in some deep water, literally, but I've a surfing background so—"

"No way, I'm a surfer too!" Deeks' interjected, his eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"As are half the grown men in California," Kensi deadpanned, turning her head slightly to catch Kono's gaze, who shook her head in amusement.

"Don't mind Kensi, Kono, she's just—"

"Sorry to interrupt what was probably going to be some amusing quip Deeks but, don't you think you should get going?" Danny interjected sarcastically over the coms.

"Oh I'm sorry Detective Williams, do you have a hairspray convention to go to?"

"Oho! That the best ya got Mr. Styled-by-Pillow?"

"Okay boys, break it up," Kensi murmured, rolling her eyes, "Deeks, Danny's got a point—Macintyre must be on drink number four by now."

Deeks' mouth dropped open, looking scandalised as he regarded his partner with widened eyes.

"Whose side are you on Kensi?" he gaped.

"The side that gets your ass out of the car and in with our suspect," Sam's gruff voice chimed, impatience lacing his tone.

"Guess that's my cue," Deeks grumbled, offering Kensi and Kono a cheeky grin before exiting the car and jogging across the street, entering the club with a nod to the doorman.

Meanwhile, one-half of the 5-0 taskforce shuffled in their rental car.

"What was that?" Steve McGarrett asked his partner, glancing at him sideways.

"What was what?" Danny asked, feeling the impending sulk that was threatening to engulf his partner.

"You and Deeks...you got a 'thing.'"

Kensi nearly choked on air as she heard this, an irrational sense of unease seeping into her veins. Kono looked at her strangely from her place in the back seat.

"We got a 'thing?'" Danny asked, staring back at Steve, a look of disbelief on his face, unaware of Kensi's reaction.

"What—"

Before the detective could continue Deeks began murmuring under his breath.

"Got an eye on Macintyre...approaching now," he finished, stopping at the bar and smacking a palm down on it heavily.

"A glass of your finest whiskey my man," he shouted jovially, faux-stumbling a little, edging closer to the ex-con who was nursing what looked like could very well be his fourth or fifth rum on the rocks.

After being served his drink by a bemused bar-tender, the blond plonked down two seats away from Macintyre, slurping his beverage loudly while covertly surveying the other man. Now that Deeks looked closer, he noticed his flushed cheeks and red-rimmed eyes that appeared to be trained on something clasped in his hand. A photograph. Interesting...

"Hey man...you alright?" Deeks asked gently, not wishing to spook him.

Slowly, the bushy-haired young man glanced up and caught Deeks' gaze with bleary, olive eyes. Gently, he shook his head in a definitive no.

The undercover detective nodded and remained silent, sensing that Macintyre was a talker. He looked like a talker and with talkers it was only a matter of time until they—

"You ever get your heart ripped out through your ass?" he asked suddenly, knocking back his drink and slamming it back down onto the bar.

Deeks eyebrows rose before he too knocked back his drink.

"Maybe not through my ass but...sure," he replied, motioning to the bartender for a refill.

"Yeah well, I have...it's not pleasant," he paused, his thumb rubbing over the picture.

Deeks edged a little closer, angling his head to the side, a pensive-look crossing his features.

"What's her name?"

Macintyre's eyes snapped up to his again, his orbs shinning with a sharp pain.

"Melissa..." he mumbled, biting his lip.

There was a short silence then, as they both nursed their new drinks. Heaving a sigh, the detective made up his mind about his next move.

"I was in love with a Melissa once," Deeks suddenly told the stranger, "back when I was a different man. She was beautiful, smart, funny in her own goofy way, truly one of a kind. We were even married for a short time – lived in this nice, big house, it was...bliss," he trailed off, warmth and sorrow in his voice.

Back in the car, Kensi gasped, not believing what she'd just heard. Surely it was all for the op, right? Her heart lurched at the possiblities. In the silence, she couldn't help but feel Kono's gaze on her and turned slightly to meet her gaze, her eyes revealing far too much to the Hawaiian native.

"She break your heart?" Macintyre asked back in the club, his voice a mere croak, placing the picture back in his pocket.

"Something like that...she left me for another man," he paused, suddenly incredibly aware that his partner could hear his every word.

"He was a real jackass too...she's far too good for him if you ask me," he finished, reaching into his pocket.

Kensi waited with bated breath.

"I mean, just look at the guy, what the hell does she see in him, huh?" Deeks asked, sliding a photograph of Delano across the bar for Macintyre to see.

The bushy-haired man glanced down, gaping, his eyes widening comically before he leapt up out of his seat and sprinted frantically towards the side-door.

"Danny, McGarrett, he's bolted your way!" Deeks yelled, racing after him.

The detective skidded and threw himself at the heavy, steel door, bursting out into the alleyway and whirling around just in time to see Danny tackle the ex-con. Rapidly, Deeks approached and helped restrain him as McGarrett pointed his weapon down on him and ordered him to stop struggling.

After a moment, they were joined by Sam and Callen, the former looking down at the apprehended man and smirking, **"**good one, blondie."

**"**Thanks," Deeks and Danny answered in unison.

**A/N: Wow. Writing a cross-over is HARD! I don't think I've ever written so much dialogue in my entire life! Too. Many. Characters! Lol.**

**I'm sick at the moment so I apologize if this isn't up to scratch – I just wanted to get it posted but boy...it is a toughy! The next instalment will probably take me a few days – these chapters ain't short – and my muddled mind will only work so fast lol.**

**Please review =]**

**~Ck**

_**NEXT CHAPTER TEASERS:**_

"_**Watching my armpit display and pelvic tilt closely were you?" Kensi pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest.**_

"_**Yeah actually, turns out you're just not that into McGarrett. Danny on the other hand..." Deeks trailed off, his meaning crystal clear. **_

"_**I don't—"**_

"_**He's blond...and we all know how much you adore blonds," he smirked as the 5-0 boys approached them.**_

_**VVVVVV**_

_**"He's cute."**_

_**"Who?" Kensi asked, her eyes searching the Hawaiian-native's.**_

_**"Deeks."**_

_**VVVVVV**_

"_**Oh that's where you're wrong Williams," Kensi stood her ground, staring him straight in the eye.**_

"_**Alright Blye, a trade. You take the neanderthal animal with an affinity for grenades and cargo pants and I'll take the fluffy-haired schnauzer with grooming issues...then we'll see who's got it worse."**_


	17. Quisby Part III

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 17: Quisby (Part III)**

**A/N: Part III/IV – the twist. And I'm not talkin' dancing! OMG jealous!Kensi and jealous!Steve are sooo much fun :D **

**Again dedicated to **_**SuperDensi427**_** for all the advice and encouragement as without it this crossover just wouldn't be the same. Thanks again! :D**

**Disclaimer: While I do have a friend named Danno, neither he nor I are cops. Nor do we own a TV show with a 'Danno', 'McGarrett' or 'Kamekona' in it for that matter. *Sigh* Oh and while I also have a friend called Marty (Danno's brother – seriously, I could not make that up lol) NCIS: LA isn't mine either =[**

* * *

**WOTD: QUISBY; Quis****·**by _noun_. A suspicious or odd individual

A frenetic heart hammered deafeningly in her ears, as her groggy mind fought to right itself. With a painful wince, she tried to open her eyes, a sharp, intense pain shooting across her forehead as the back of her skull throbbed, every beat matching her rapid pulse. Slowly, her polychrome eyes peered open, only to find themselves shrouded in complete darkness. It was then that the agent registered in her fuzzy brain that there was something covering her head – some sort of cloth bag she gathered.

Just as that thought floated from her mind, she heard the distinct sound of footsteps on a concrete floor edge nearer and nearer to her. Before she could really prepare herself, the bag was suddenly lifted roughly off her head, pieces of loose hair from her pony-tail flying about her. With a steely determination, Kensi Blye raised her aching head, squinted gaze staring intently up at her captor with as much venom as she could muster.

Dark eyes met light.

Anger met fury.

"You idiot," Frank Delano spat at a man standing to the left of him, "that's not Kono Kalakaua!"

* * *

_9 Hours Earlier_

"Okay Louie, can I call ya Louie? I'm gonna level with ya here...me? I'm good cop. Seriously, I'm the best chance ya got, as soon as I let my friends in here it's gonna get real ugly real fast so, how's about you just tell us where Delano is now before Detective Williams decides that he wants to practice his tackling skills again, huh?" Detective Marty Deeks stood on one side of the interrogation table, resting his palms flat out on it, as he leaned forward and stared down at the jittery suspect.

"I—I don't know any Delano," he mumbled, his olive eyes darting from Deeks to Kensi and back again.

"Oh really?" Deeks asked, sharing a wry grin with his partner who watched on with interest, "that's funny Louie 'cause for someone who doesn't know the guy, you jumped pretty damn high when I showed you his picture, I thought you had springs on your shoes," he finished, folding his arms indignantly.

Macintyre gaped, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Okay Kens, looks like he's not talkin'—guess we better send in the Five-0 boys," Deeks started towards the door.

"Five-0? From Hawaii?" Louis croaked, a bead of sweat ran down the tip of his nose.

"Hear that Danny? Looks like we're famous," Steve flung open the door and stalked into the room, his partner hot on his heels.

Kensi smirked, taking her leave from the room, making her way back out to Kono who sat on the table outside, facing the screen that showed the live-feed of the interrogation.

"Think he'll talk?" Kono asked, her eyes never leaving the TV.

Kensi sat down beside her and folded her arms.

"Guys like him always talk...that's if Deeks and Danny let him get a word in," she grinned, secretly sympathetic towards Steve – the 'strong and silent type' stuck in a room with three people that didn't know when to shut the hell up.

"He's cute," Kono mused, her gaze flickering to the agent's.

"Who?" Kensi asked, her brow furrowed, her eyes searching the Hawaiian native's.

"Deeks," Kono replied, her tone suggesting that it was incredibly obvious.

The NCIS agent's eyebrows rose at that, her knuckle dragging along her bottom lip, her gaze fluttering downcast.

"You look surprised," the Hawaiian stated, tilting her head to regard her companion thoughtfully.

Kensi's eyes darted back up to hers before rapidly landing back on the screen. It was difficult to keep eye-contact for too long, not after that telling moment in the car.

"I just—didn't realize he was your type," she grumbled, trying to quell the bitterness in the depths of her stomach.

Kono erupted with a short chuckle that shook her shoulders.

"And why wouldn't he be? He's hot, funny, has a nice smile and...a good heart," she finished, a small grin passing over her face.

A surge of _something_ flooded through Kensi's body as she heard that. This woman barely knew him 24 hours and she was already making assumptions (albeit accurate assumptions) about her partner? What was her end-game here? Was she seriously interested in him? If so, why was she talking to Kensi about it? Because she was a woman? Because she was Deeks' partner? Was this her way of asking Kensi's 'permission'?

"The way he talked about Melissa, while the story wasn't real, the warmth, clearly was," Kono continued, either not realising Kensi's stillness or ignoring it, "how long have you guys been partners?"

That snapped Kensi out of her downward spiral, her engulfing reverie filled to the brim with hypothesises, queries, anxieties...

"Uh—nearly three years," she murmured, remembering fondly how he gave her a small assortment of chocolate treats the morning that marked their second year of being partners for 'no reason' before offering her a small smile and sitting down at his desk as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. She bought take-out that night, from Angelo's, his favourite.

"But we've uh...known each other a longer than that," she clarified, her mind casting back to a MMA gym when her eyes first landed on a blond dressed in a white T-shirt, red shorts and black socks. He may have been Jason then, and she Tracy, but they were still Deeks and Kensi...just like they were when they were Justin and Melissa.

"And when were you Melissa?" Kono asked suddenly as if she'd read her mind, causing poor Kensi to splutter in surprise. Had she said something out loud!

"I—what?" she stammered, her polychrome eyes now glued to Kono's dark ones.

Kono merely offered her a soft shrug; her eyebrows raised in a silent 'don't bullshit me Blye' as Kensi scrambled to come up with a response.

"How...did you know?" she asked instead, trying to think of something, anything more intelligent to say but coming up with zip, zilch, nada.

"I am a cop, Agent Blye," she smirked, "and besides, you looked like you were gonna explode your face was turning so red..."

Kensi barely suppressed a groan when something caught her attention on the screen. Both she and Kono turned around fully to watch.

"You'll have to excuse my partner, he was raised by wolves," Danny was griping, a thunderous glare directed at McGarrett who (for the most part) looked a little sheepish for a fleeting moment before his face morphed back into his steely glare, directed firmly at Macintyre.

"Can I speak to you for a second?" the detective asked, his question sounding more like a demand before he practically dragged Steve out of the room and into the hallway by his elbow.

Although neither Kensi nor Kono could see them anymore, they could hear their raised hisses wafting down the corridor.

"Yo Romulus! What the hell was that, huh? You really think that's gonna get us Delano?"

"Come on Danno—"

"Nope, no McGarrett, I refuse to let this happen. You may have questionable free-reign in Hawaii but this is Los Angeles my friend, and we're technically not cops here so, forgive me if I don't look favourably on whatever crazy plan is forming in that goofy head of yours," Danny whispered harshly, the hand-waving and eye-rolling evident in his tone.

Kensi and Kono suppressed grins as Steve presumably rolled his eyes and walked back into the room, his partner sighing heavily, more than likely offering up a silent prayer for patience and following him. Silently, the two women watched as the partners joined Deeks back in the interrogation.

After a moment, a burning question erupted from Kensi's lips.

"What's McGarrett and Danny's story anyway? The way they bicker, I expected them to either have killed each other by now or at least be in serious couples' counselling," she smirked.

A pensive smile passed over Kono's face as she regarded the other woman, her eyes slightly narrowed as if she were trying to delve into the depths of her soul.

"Well," she began cryptically, "Steve and Danny have a complicated...relationship. And it is a relationship; it's far too deep to be just a partnership. They're more than just co-workers, they're friends, best friends, probably the best that either of them have ever had, especially Steve. And yeah, they clash, their personalities are too different not to sometimes, but they make it work. They both care too much about the job and about each other to let their differences tear them apart – their bickering is kinda like their own way of getting their frustrations at the world, at each other, out. But, at the end of the day, what they have is solid and good and effective, they're the ultimate, kickass team," she finished, clasping her hands together and looking at Kensi expectantly.

The agent was stunned at the cop's words. The parallelism between the Five-0 boys and her own partnership was not lost on her, and not on Kono either she suspected. There was more laced in her words than the Hawaiian let on, a sense of unadulterated_ knowing_ that Kensi would neither confirm nor deny. It was unsettling really, how fast this woman had her and her partner pegged, how easy it was for her to see through them, through their facade held together now by mere tendrils of thread that broke down bit by bit every day, threatening to unleash something just a little terrifying with each passing moment. It made the agent ponder if she and Deeks were this transparent to the rest of the world, the rest of their team, hell, everyone around them.

She found she didn't want to know.

Before Kensi could come up with an appropriate response (not that she actually had one), the two were interrupted by the arrival of another infamous pair, Sam Hanna and G Callen.

"Buddy Holly talkin' yet?" Sam asked with an amused glance to his partner.

"Just about," Kensi replied with a roll of her eyes as she witnessed what appeared to finally be an emotional break-down from the surprisingly strong-willed nerd.

After another ten minutes, Kensi, Kono, Sam and Callen watched intently as the three cops left the interrogation room and out towards them.

"He talked," Deeks announced, "after some...creativity on our part. Gave McGarrett a location, surf-shop not too far from here and where apparently Delano does his shady deals in the back when he's not at the warehouse. He gave us an associate too, Wilko – no last name, like Madonna or Cher or Pedro," he paused, a cheesy grin on his face.

Six pairs of eyes stared at him in silence.

"Really? Nothing? 'Vote for Pedro?' No? At least tell me you get it Kens..." he turned to his partner who held her hands up in surrender and shook her head.

"Sorry partner—"

"My talents are wasted on you people," Deeks interrupted, his tone exasperated before throwing his arms up and stalking out of the room.

Sam and Callen both glanced at Kensi sympathetically, offering her a wry grin.

"You gotta put up with that every day?" Steve asked with a smirk.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg," she replied, a chuckle escaping her lips.

Danny looked between her and Steve for a moment, his expression scandalised.

"Seriously? That's it? You got off lucky Blye, trust me," he said, pointedly ignoring the ever-growing look of chaste outrage forming on his partner's face.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Steve asked stiffly, folding him arms tightly.

"Really? You have to ask?" Danny countered, folding his arms to match McGarrett's perfectly, their eyes locked in a staring match.

"Take it from me Blye, you got off easy," he continued, breaking his gaze from Steve and turning to regard Kensi, his arms still glued against his chest.

"Oh that's where you're wrong Williams," Kensi stood her ground, staring him straight in the eye, the sense of a challenge rising in her veins.

Danny held her stare and smirked, a plan forming in his mind.

"Alright Blye, a trade. You take the neanderthal animal with an affinity for grenades and cargo pants and I'll take the fluffy-haired schnauzer with grooming issues...then we'll see who's got it worse."

"Deal."

It was at the precise moment of their handshake that Deeks' head popped back into the room, an expression of sheer disbelief on his face. It was clear to everyone present that he'd heard the entire exchange.

"So let me get this straight, Kens," he walked towards his partner, his hands held up in disbelief, "you get the American James Bond over there and I get a shorter James Caan?"

The Jersey-native gaped at him.

"That's who you remind me of!" Sam suddenly exclaimed with a click of his fingers.

Danny glared. He was starting to regret this already.

* * *

It wasn't even six hours later when the two teams found themselves back in OSP after a short-night's sleep, ready to go track down this 'Wilko' individual in the 'Stop 'n' Surf' store. Macintyre couldn't tell them much, he wasn't as tight with Delano as they would have liked – being recruited to the group by his ex-cell mate but the name and location was enough, for now. The plan was to they try and catch Wilko off guard, knowing there was a high possibility that Delano could be hiding out at his place now that he'd left the warehouse. If they came up empty, they'd at least get Wilko (a much closer associate to Delano than Macintyre) and try turn him.

As the Five-0 guys got themselves set up with some equipment, Deeks and Kensi waited impatiently at their desks, Kensi fumbling with a pen and Deeks staring into space.

"That was a nice show you put on last night, by the way," Deeks said suddenly, not looking at his partner.

"What?" she replied, looking over at him, honestly not knowing what he was referring to. With him it could be anything.

"You and Danny...you like him," he stated simply.

There was a beat of silence at that. Deeks' eyes finally met hers.

"Watching my armpit display and pelvic tilt closely were you?" Kensi pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest.

"Yeah actually, turns out you're just not that into McGarrett. A certain detective with anger-issues on the other hand..." Deeks trailed off, his meaning crystal clear.

"I don't—"

"He's blond...and we all know how much you adore blonds..." he trailed off, letting his words sink in.

"He's cute," she agreed with a small smile.

Deeks' mouth dropped open. He wasn't expecting that.

"You're taller than him," he countered, his lips forming a thin line.

"Not by much," she smirked.

"He has an ex-wife...meaning he has baggage," he quipped quickly with a pointed index finger in her direction.

"And I don't?" she asked, almost daring him to answer her.

Marty Deeks was not a stupid man.

"Okay, here's one, he lives in _Hawaii_," he changed tact, heavy emphasis on the detective's living coordinates.

"You never had a long distance relationship Deeks?" she pondered, balancing a pen on her nose.

"Not one that worked."

She sat forward at that, the pen falling onto the desk. There was just a hint of _something_ in his tone that made her falter and as her eyes caught his, a flash of that same _something _passing across them. She opened her mouth to question it when Danny, Steve and Kono entered the bull-pen, looking geared up to go.

"Ready?" Deeks turned his attention to them, standing up and away from his desk.

"Ready. Alright babe, you're with Blye, Deeks you're with me," Danny informed them, making his way out towards his rental car.

"Babe?" Deeks questioned, looking incredibly confused, his eyes flickering to Steve as they halted at the doorway.

Steve hunched up his shoulders, his arms folded, his stance a little defensive.

"It's a Jersey thing."

Deeks' eyebrows rose.

"Really? 'Cause I gotta tell ya McGarrett, I've been in New Jersey a lot and that's not something I've ever—"

Deeks' voice died in his throat at Steve's glare.

"Uh...never mind."

He cleared his throat loudly before Kensi rolled her eyes and pushed past him, following Danny out, Kono and Steve close behind.

Deeks watched their retreating backs for a moment before murmuring to himself, "this should be fun."

* * *

The sun was beaming from the cloudless sky down onto Danny Williams' rental car as he and Marty Deeks sat in the front seat, binoculars and listening equipment on their laps.

"Alright so, what's the plan Deeks? The smash and grab? The Three-Card Monty? What ya thinkin'?" Kensi asked over the coms as she and McGarrett sat in her car from across the street.

"Uh actually Kens, I was thinking I could bring in Kono instead, you know, wouldn't want your and Danny's agreement to become null and void," came his response, his tone a mixture of teasing and something slightly more jagged.

There was a slight pause at that. Kensi gaped, staring out the window to where she could see the trunk of the rental car that housed her partner. She could feel McGarrett's gaze on her as she scrambled her brain for a response.

"Okay, yeah sure, good plan," she replied, cringing at her less-than-nonchalant tone.

Back in the rental car, Detective Williams regarded Detective Deeks with an unsure expression on his face.

"You sure about this Deeks?" he asked suddenly, his eyes flickering to the rear-view mirror to where his friend was donning sunglasses and fixing her shirt.

"Positive," Deeks assured him, "look, Kono and I can talk the talk, walk the walk, this guy would spot a novice or a cop pretending to be a novice a mile away."

It made sense, really it did. Kensi knew this, but despite this rational explanation, a sense of unease and agitation seeped into her skin, forcing her to fidget uncomfortably. McGarrett's azure eyes focused on her, a thoughtful thumb pressed to his chin.

"Deeks is right Danny, better that he and Kono take the surf-place, I can take the alley and you and Kensi can hang back. Sam and Callen are still working Macintyre, we could still get something from him but until then, Kensi can keep an eye out here, you keep watch from the front and let us take point...that way you won't have to forfeit either," he finished, his tone matching Deeks' perfectly.

"Ha, ha, you two are hilarious," Danny grumbled, "cute, really. What you think, Blye?"

Kensi sighed.

"Yeah, they're adorable," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes at Steve before continuing, her tone changing into something just for Deeks, "what're you waiting for then surfer boy?"

Deeks let out a laugh with a shake of his head, motioning to Kono before climbing out of the car. Together, the two of them made their way across the street, passing Kensi's car (she tried to ignore the larger spring in Deeks' step than usual) and entered the store. Steve waited one or two beats before exiting and making his way to the side of the place.

"So Williams, can your guy talk the talk too? Ya know, just in case he's caught lurking around? I mean, he has looks on his side but—"

"You kidding me?" Danny cut across her, "you put that guy in a potato sack and he could still sell rice to China!"

Steve's soft chuckle sounded in their ears just as Deeks' tone came across loud and clear.

"Hey man, my girl and I are looking for the ultimate board..."

Kensi tried her best to control the frown that wanted to attack her features as she heard those words. _Focus Blye, focus!_

At first, everything seemed to be going fine. Deeks and Kono traded the appropriate surfer jargon with the store clerk, Steve found nothing suspicious around the area, Kensi spotted nothing suspect from her vantage point and neither did Danny from his.

And then suddenly, with the arrival of a man in a leather jacket, a toothpick hanging out of his mouth, it were as if a silent gunshot had sounded throughout the store, as the burst of activity began to flourish in a blink of an eye. Kono's mouth dropped open as she caught sight of the very familiar man, the very same man that tied her up and dumped her overboard four months ago.

"They're cops!" the new guy yelled before Kono could utter a word, pulling out a gun and shooting in rapid secession.

Kensi's eyes widened and she couldn't bolt out of the car fast enough, catching Danny in her peripheral vision as he raced across the street towards the surf-shop.

Inside, Deeks and Kono leapt for cover while the clerk pulled out another gun and the new-guy bolted through the side door. Kensi caught a glimpse of him in the distance as he threw himself at the door and went to race down the alley. Knowing that Steve had the end of it covered, she picked up the speed and went to box him in.

"I got the alley, Danny you get the shop!" she yelled as she sprinted past the front door and verged to the left, down the alley.

"LAPD! Lower your weapon!" Deeks yelled as he and Kono pulled out their guns, huddled behind a long rack of surfboards, ready to shoot.

His response was to pump two more bullets in their direction before he let out a cry, dropping his gun and falling to the floor.

Danny rolled his eyes, lowering his gun as Deeks and Kono stepped out in front of him.

"Bad guys...they never listen," the Jersey-native shook his head at them.

Meanwhile, Kensi was nearing the suspect, her long legs pounding the pavement, her heart-beat thundering in her ears.

"McGarrett, what's your stat—"

A loud whack reverberated through the alley as suddenly the suspect was down, sprawled out on his back, McGarrett standing over him, holding out a large plank of wood exultantly.

"Nice," Kensi commented with a smirk as she slowed down to a halt, nudging the now unconscious man's foot with hers.

Steve flashed her a grin.

"Guys we got him, everything good there?" he asked the guys back in the store.

"Yeah, don't you worry McGarrett we—"

Deeks' reply was cut off unexpectedly as the loud rumble of an engine echoed around them, a large black van speeding down the alley towards Kensi and Steve. With a frantic glance, the two leapt in both directions, out of the way as the van screeched to a halt, just before it hit the unconscious suspect lying on the ground. Rapidly, the doors flung open on Kensi's side and she was engulfed by four pairs of hands, dragging her up and into the vehicle. She wasn't going easy though, she kicked and punched and thrashed before one of them pistol whipped her, slamming the doors shut as McGarrett leapt up, withdrawing his gun, yelling to the team, "207 in progress, they got—"

A swift kick to the face from the now open passenger door cut McGarrett before he had the chance to fire off a shot and he flew back harshly against a dumpster, his body bouncing off it roughly. Not even a second passed before he shook himself and straightened, firing a number of shots at the van's tires, windows but it had already sped too far away, reversing rapidly, the tires still squealing, smoke rising from them.

In the distance he could see the rest of the team, could hear the panicked voice of one Detective Marty Deeks as he sprinted to his partner's car to try and follow the van, yelling all the way...

"Kensi! KENSI!"

**A/N: Yeah, I know James Caan guest-starred as Tony Archer in Hawaii Five-0 but the James Caan & Scott Caan/Danny similarity reference just wouldn't leave me alone LOL. Sorry for my geekdom. **

**Phew! Wow. That was HUGE. Gonna go put my hands under some luke-warm water now haha! I cringe to think what the next one's gonna be like...my fingers are already cramping lol.**

**Please review =]**

**~Ck**

**Again, I'm not incredibly satisfied with this and apologize if my writing isn't up to scratch. I hope it improves as I get over being sick and icky :/ lol**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"**Where is she McGarrett? How the hell did you—"**

"**Whoa, Deeks, calm down..." Danny interjected as Deeks began to square up to his partner.**

"**Calm down?" Deeks growled, whirling around to glare at the detective, "if it wasn't for your stupid bet, she would have been with me and not McGarrett and wouldn't have gotten kidnapped by some deranged cop-killer! This is on you, Williams!"**


	18. Execrable Part IV

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 18: Execrable (Part IV)**

**A/N: Part IV/IV – the last in the crossover. I take back what I said about chapter 13 – I was wrong, this was the hardest chapter to write in the entire series. Hope it goes okay...**

**Again, dedicated to the wonderful **_**SuperDensi427**_**! :D**

**AND THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the favourites and alerts and reviews, wow, I am just speechless at the response! You're all amazing! :D**

**Disclaimer: Many a dream has been wasted imagining that I was the owner of two of the most successful television shows in the world...but with no result. Sigh.**

* * *

**WOTD: EXECRABLE; ex·e·cra·ble **_**adj.**_** Abominable, detestable, vile, wretched, of the poorest quality (person, place or thing)**

"Where is Kono Kalakaua?"

The barrel of a gun dug roughly into her temple, leaving behind deep indentations in the side of her skull. The agent didn't budge however, didn't wince at the sharp pain it was causing, the uncontrollable spinning, the dark fog that threatened to engulf her sight, all of it was blocked out as she focused on her breathing, on survival, on getting back home, on getting back to Dee—

"Alright...NCIS Agent Kensi Blye," Delano interrupted her train of thought as looked down at her badge with mild interest before throwing it to the floor. "Let's see how different your story is after you lose a kneecap."

A shot rang out in the air like a crack of lightening in a storm. This time Kensi did wince. She couldn't help it...

* * *

"Deeks? Deeks! Slow down!" the voice of Kono Kalakaua rang through OSP as the blond stormed out of Ops and towards the gym. He ignored her however and just continued his trek, halting abruptly as he reached the doorway. In a blur, he whirled around, forcing Kono to stick her feet to the floor to avoid crashing into him.

"What?" he asked, his voice tethering on the edge of sharp.

"I—" Kono seemed at a loss for words. How could she possibly put into words how she felt? How could she describe the overwhelming guilt churning in the pit of her stomach? The all-consuming sense of dread that clutched at the edges of her soul as a small voice in the back of her head taunted her, scolded her, told her that it should be her in Delano's clutches, not Kensi...

"We'll find Kensi," she settled for replying, her voice sounding a hell of a lot more confident than she felt.

"And how will we do that?" Deeks snapped, his usual mirth-filled eyes now stone cold. "Eric and Nell can't find the van, her GPS isn't transmitting – how the hell can we find her when we've no idea where Delano's new hideout is? Huh? She could be anywhere in Los Angeles! And in case you haven't noticed, this is the mainland; we don't need boats to get other states!"

He knew he was being unfair, unkind even, but a whirl of sporadic images from his partner's laughing face, to the fumes of the van's tail-pipe as it sped away from him (no matter how hard he floored his foot) would not leave his mind, were unrelenting in their torment and he just couldn't control his reaction. It was as if his entire partnership was on a constant montage mode, various moments, both significant (first time they met) and insignificant (last time they had take-out) and everything in between flashing in his mind as his body was flooded with misplaced adrenaline and was forced to stay put. It was damn-near unbearable. But none of that was any excuse to take it out on Kono.

With a bite of his lip, Deeks looked at the dark-eyed woman and recognised the look of sheer, raw culpability marring her face. Somewhere, in the midst of his anguish, despair, anxiety, he knew she was busy beating herself up over this, wishing she has been the one that was abducted. A sharp twist dug of shame into his stomach as he realised that despite the events, he didn't want her thinking such things.

"Deeks," Danny called before the LAPD detective could apologize to Kono.

He slowly turned his attention to where Danny, Steve, Sam and Callen entered the gym, each of their faces lined with grit, a fierce determination. Hope rose in his chest cavity.

"You found her?" he asked, hating the lilt of desperation lacing his tone.

Four adverted eyes were his response.

"Great, that's just great," the detective grumbled angrily under his breath, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyelids.

"This never should have happened," he continued, his voice rising slightly as every gaze in the room turned to him.

"Deeks I—"

"How the hell did you let it happen anyway McGarrett?" Deeks interrupted the SEAL, "you had a gun didn't—"

"Whoa, Deeks, calm down..." Danny interjected as Deeks began to square up to his partner, who stood his ground, staring straight into his eyes that were flushed with fury.

"Calm down?" Deeks growled, whirling around to glare at the detective, "if it wasn't for your stupid bet, she would have been with me and not McGarrett and wouldn't have gotten kidnapped by some deranged cop-killer! This is on you, Williams!"

Deeks yelled into Danny's face, pointing the shorter man in the shoulder roughly before he was jerked back by two pairs of hands, Sam's and Steve's – the taskforce leader's a little more forceful.

"If anyone is to blame it's me, Deeks, I was the one that was there not Danny, so if you're looking for someone to be pissed at, be pissed at me," Steve said sharply, his azure eyes boring into the liaison, his tone holding a steel edge to it as Sam's grip loosened a little on Deeks' shoulder.

The tension in the room was so thick that a chainsaw hadn't a hope in hell of cutting it. A silence swallowed the gym as the liaison and the SEAL entered an impromptu staring match, jaws set, shoulders hunched, eyes narrowed.

"Look, we can all stand around here and play the blame game," Callen cut in after a moment, "or we can do something about it, so how about we just do that huh?"

That seemed to break through Deeks' haze as his eyes flickered to his colleague for a second before fluttering to the floor. He slowly pushed down the anger and frustration running rampant in his system, a strong sense of pure shame flowing through his veins as he reflected on his behaviour. He was always so careful to keep this...all of it under control, even in the worst of situations but this time...this time it was Kensi and—but that was no excuse. He had to make things right.

"I—"

"My office, Mr. Deeks," a voice interrupted him from the doorway. Deeks' head snapped up, finding the petite, bespectacled woman immediately and opened his mouth to protest.

"But Hetty—"

"Now, Mr. Deeks."

Her tone was impenetrable.

With a small sigh, the detective trudged out, ignoring the many eyes on him, and following Hetty, his head downcast, his feet heavy, his heart sinking into his stomach with every passing minute and drowning in the absence of his partner.

* * *

Kensi's eyes snapped shut as the shot rang in her ears, a wince creeping onto her face as she felt the bullet whizzed past her and bury itself in the wall behind her, not two inches to the left of where she sat, bound to a wooden chair. She could feel the devious smirk on Delano's face even before her orbs burst open and bore into his.

"Next time I won't miss," he assured her before swinging the butt of his gun into her jaw, her neck snapping rapidly at the force before turning on his heel and walking towards a large, bald man that she recognised from some of the surveillance photos Eric and Nell found.

"Charlie, keep an eye on her," he advised without a backwards glance, "I've some business to attend to. Oh and uh—do whatever it takes to get her talking."

Kensi watched his retreating back, ignoring the agony in her left cheek and the droplets of blood forming in mouth as his suggestive tone reverberated off the small, windowless room's walls, the threat glaringly palpable, not merely thinly-veiled.

"Will do, boss," the robust man, Charlie, replied, his beady eyes settled on the agent, his face twisted into an ugly leer.

Kensi glared right back at him, a fierce determination flowing in her veins as the very familiar very soothing voice of her partner sounded in the back of her mind.

_Bring it on, Poppin' Fresh._

* * *

"Sit down, Mr. Deeks," Hetty directed, her voice low but firm.

Deeks did what he was told and sank down heavily into the chair, fidgeting slightly as he felt the hawk-like-eyes trained on him, even with his own gaze glued steadily to the floor. Several seconds ticked by, the two shrouded in a silence, Hetty's elbows resting on her desk, steeple-fingers pressed to her lips while Deeks slouched, his knee giggling frantically up and down.

"Our man with the affinity for toothpicks has awoken," she informed him suddenly, her fingers laced together as she regarded the liaison over her glasses, "quite the blow Lieutenant Commander McGarrett gave him with that plank of wood, he's going to have a nasty headache," she paused, offering him a wry smile.

"When can we question him?" Deeks asked, sitting forward in his chair, a new lease of life and determination on his face.

"Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna have gone to do that right now, the Five-0 taskforce will get their chance too as I'm sure they want to exact retribution on the man that tried to murder Ms. Kalakaua," Hetty finished, tilting her head as she awaited the detective's response.

"I should be doing that interrogation Hetty! I'm her partner!" Deeks retorted, barely controlling his voice to be less than a yell.

"Which is precisely why I'm not allowing it, you're too close Mr. Deeks, too upset—"

"Well of course I am! My partner was kidnapped today Hetty, right under our noses and Delano is a sick sonofabitch cop-killer who could be doing anything to—" his voice broke, the rest of the sentence dying in his throat.

There was a pause, fraught with emotion from both sides of the table, one only marginally more subdued and in control than the other.

"Tell me, Mr. Deeks," Hetty began, laying her clasped hands on the table, her voice the softest he'd heard it yet, "is your incredible concern for your partner just that or...is there something more to it?" she finished, casting her mind back when she posed a similar question to Ms. Blye a year before, when she'd thought that her partner had been fired.

Deeks gaped, his mouth slightly ajar, his eyes minutely widened.

"Because if there is...something more," she continued, heaving just the right amount of warning into her tone, "perhaps now would not be the best time to let your heart rule your head. Ms. Blye's safe return and the capture of her assailants is top priority, and the only way to accomplish that is to give the reins to our brains, so to speak..." she trailed off, both her subtle and not-so-subtle meanings laced between the lines.

The detective's mind whirled, many thoughts, responses, jumbling in his mind as he fought to come up with some response. Although Hetty had always been surprising, always all-knowing and almost mystical in instincts and unique perception, this really took the proverbial cake.

"I—"

"Deeks!" Nell rushed towards them, throwing an apologetic look to Hetty, "we got something!"

* * *

"I want some water. And aspirin. And a lawyer."

"And we we want our friend so, quid pro quo Karl, I scratch your back you scratch mine. Where's Delano?" Callen paced back and forth in front of the interrogation table as McGarrett watched on, his azure eyes merely slits as he stood motionless, arms tightly folded across his chest.

Sam, Danny and Kono viewed from outside via video-feed, each tense and on-edge as they were reminded just how much time had passed – four hours, forty-three minutes and seventeen seconds, far too long by anyone's standards.

"He the one that threw you overboard?" Sam asked Kono, his glare glued to the TV.

"That's him, I'd remember that ugly hat anywhere," Kono replied, folding her arms and creaking her neck.

"Yeah well, our fashion-challenged friend here is definitely involved with Kensi's abduction...if Delano trusted him to kill you, odds are he still has some say in Delano's circle," Danny murmured, dragging a tired across his chin.

"Yeah but he didn't kill me," Kono reminded him, "and I don't think Delano would like him so much after that..."

"He liked him enough, he's still alive," Sam chimed in just as they saw McGarrett move swiftly to lean over the interrogation table, right down into the suspect's face.

"You're gonna tell us where Delano and Agent Blye is, right now," he gritted his teeth, "because if you don't, I'm gonna haul your ass back to Hawaii right now and charge you with the attempted murder of a police officer and trust me, the journey will be anything but pleasant."

The suspect, Karl Valens, glared up at the commander, fury written all over his face.

"And we now got you and Delano on drug trafficking thanks to your boy Macintyre, he might not be high on the food chain but he still told us some interesting things when he sang like a bird," Callen interjected the staring match between Valens and McGarrett.

"I'm tellin' you nothin' man, you killed my girl," he spat, ignoring Callen, his tightly-would wrath all for the Five-0 leader.

"Your girl?" McGarrett asked, his interest peaked.

"Hillary," Valens muttered, breaking the eye-contact by lowering his gaze to his lap.

McGarrett's eyebrows shot up at that and he turned to look up at the camera with a _'what do ya think about that Danno?' _expression on his face, knowing well his partner would catch on. Outside, a look of realization passed over Danny's face before he clicked his fingers and stormed down the corridor and into the room.

"Yeah well, your girl killed a cop, wounded an M.E, blew up the Honolulu Police Department and murdered innocent people so, she kinda had it comin'," he called as he entered the room, halting beside McGarrett, mirroring his stance perfectly.

"Who are you? Twiddle-dummer?" Valens smirked with a shake of his head.

"Ha! You're hilarious, isn't he hilarious Steven?" Danny asked sarcastically with a clap to Steve's shoulder, "no, Bill Hicks, I'm actually a detective with the Five-0 taskforce in Hawaii and the guy that's gonna talk your ear off for the next nine hours if you don't give us a damn answer. I mean really, you wanna protect the guy that got your girl killed?" he trailed off, letting his words sink in.

There was a moment of silence before Valens took a breath.

"Hill knew what she was gettin' herself into, it was her own fault she got shot," he replied, folding his arms with an air of nonchalance.

"Cold," Danny murmured to Steve.

"Alright, let's try this another way," McGarrett stepped in, "you tell us where Delano took Blye and we'll offer you a deal," he finished, trying not to let the disgust at the mere idea of Valens practically getting away with trying to kill his friend cross his features.

That seemed to get the man's attention.

"What kinda deal?"

Before anyone had the chance to answer, Marty Deeks burst into the room, looking frazzled and gasping for breath.

"I know where Kensi is!"

He storms over to the table and slams the picture down on the table, glaring formidably down at the man, leaning into his and whispering, his tone still managing a sharp hilt.

"You and your boss are in for it now, buddy."

* * *

Seventeen.

That was how many seconds it took Kensi's new friend to break. It was sad really, had the bold yet stupid obstinacy of the common criminal just dwindled down to nothing over the years? There really was no honour amongst thieves...or kidnappers for that matter.

It had all happened two minutes ago, Poppin' Fresh's first and last mistake – getting within two feet of a seriously pissed, seriously motivated Kensi Blye.

"What's wrong Princess?" he had asked, puckering up his lips and shuffling ever closer to her.

That word seemed to evoke something even more lethal in her veins as a flash of familiar tousled blond-hair crept into the back of her mind.

"I'm dandy...just...I wish these ties were a little looser," she cooed, fluttering her eyes at him.

He leaned forward, his smug smirk plastered widely across his face, Kensi suppressed a grimace, he looked like a sweaty, over-grown toddler.

"You really think I'm that stupid, Princess?" he hissed, edging even closer, his forehead that was slick with perspiration a mere inch from hers, the smell of salt assaulting her nostrils.

Kensi's grin grew devilish.

"Oh, I'm counting on it," she laughed before edging her neck back and propelling her head forward, head-butting Charlie with as much force as she could muster. The large man stumbled backwards, clutching his nose as blood gushed from it and that's when Kensi took her chance. Heaving herself up, balancing as best as she could with feet that were bound to the chair and hands that were stuck behind her back, she lifted up her body as high as she could before plonking down heavily onto the wooden chair roughly, smirking when it shattered and splintered underneath her, bits of wood flying everywhere as she landed on her back on the floor.

Scrambling, she snatched up a sharp piece of wood from behind her back, using it to cut away her restraints as Charlie composed himself and advanced on her. Pressing her hands to the ground, she used the momentum to haul herself up, her legs springing out to kick him in the chest with enough force to knock him to the ground.

With one last tug, the ropes fell away from her wrists and she reached forward to tug the remains of rope and wood from her legs before jumping up, just as Charlie had managed to lift himself off the floor. Before he even had the chance to turn around, Kensi pounced, sweeping a leg under his, knocking him to his knees, before she wound one around his neck and using the other to pull his arm back painfully. Charlie choked out a sob silently as she more than likely dislocated his shoulder.

"Alright Charlie, you're gonna be a good boy and tell me where I am and how the hell to get outta here, 'cause if not..." she pulled his arm back further to prove her point.

"You understand me?" she hissed as she let go of his arm and pulled his pistol from its holster, kicking him in the back and pointing it at the base of his skull.

"Okay, okay, fine..." the bald-man started, "we're in a storage container..."

* * *

"A storage container?" Callen asked Deeks as they left the interrogation room and joined Sam and Kono outside.

"Yep, Nell and Eric found one registered in Valens' name and apparently there was an anonymous tip less than an hour ago from a young woman, saying that there was suspicious activity around the area, dozens of boxes being unloaded that was supposed to have held a shipment of paper but when she did some sneaking around, she saw some guy open one of the boxes and what he took out was definitely not paper," Deeks finished as everyone gathered around.

"And where's the girl now?" Sam asked, as the adrenaline began to fill the room.

"Eric and Nell tracked her phone to a studio apartment downtown leased to a Melissa Taylor, LAPD uniforms were sent to interview her and a protect detail was put on her just in case," the liaison informed them, a hint of impatience in his tone.

"So, we got a plan?" he asked, looking around to the others, his mind running over various scenarios a mile a minute.

Callen smirked as he and Sam exchanged glances.

"We got a plan."

* * *

Kensi wiped a bead of sweat from her brow as she hurled the axe at the heavy door.

"I told you," Charlie grumbled from where he was bound on the floor, "you need a key to open it from the inside, there's no way an axe will get through."

Kensi swung the axe one more time, just for good measure. The vibration shook the entire container but barely left a dent in the door. Poppin' Fresh was right. It wasn't going to budge.

Time for Plan B.

* * *

"In position, Deeks, what's your twenty?"

Sam's voice murmured through the coms as Deeks and Danny ducked down behind a container and lay in wait.

"About six hundred yards out, Callen at the gate?"

"He and Steve are sweet-talkin' the guard," Sam chuckled, trying and failing to get the image of his partner in baggy blue overalls out of his head.

"McGarrett recognise anyone?" Deeks asked, as Danny tapped him on the shoulder and signalled the arrival of two strangers, who, if the bulges under their jackets were any indication, were packing heat.

"Sam, we got two guys on the south-east corner, they're carrying, must be two of Delano's guys."

"So that's two we know outside, probably one or two more maybe in the container with Kensi, Callen, you got anyone else?" Sam asked as he and Kono edged nearer to the location facing Deeks and Danny.

"Negative, guard seems clean," Callen replied as he and Steve walked through the yard.

"Alright Deeks, make the call," Sam instructed as he and Kono crept up on the gunned men and knocked them out, dragging them out of sight as Deeks dialled up a number on his phone, giving instructions to the person on the other end and hanging up.

It wouldn't be long now.

"You doin' okay?" Danny Williams asked as they laid in wait.

Deeks frowned, looking over his shoulder, puzzled at the detective's question.

"I'm fine, why?"

Danny shrugged, checking his clip before looking back up.

"Just—I know how stressful it is...your partner getting kidnapped. I know the strain it can put on you."

A fresh wave of guilt ensnared Marty Deeks as Danny said this, reminded how he acted earlier and how he spoke to him.

"Listen Danny I'm sorry—"

The Jersey-native cut him off with a dismissive wave and a shrug of his shoulders.

"Like I said Deeks, I know what it's like for your partner to be kidnapped, it's one of the scariest things that can happen to a cop, and especially seeing as it's you and Kensi..." he trailed off, taking a look through the binoculars.

"What does that mean?" Deeks was almost afraid to ask.

Danny stilled, putting down the binoculars and staring questioningly at him.

"Well, you know 'cause you and Kensi are—"

"Partners," Deeks stressed, feeling the need to explain himself all of a sudden. "We're partners...what Kensi and I have is like...like a really good a really good bromance. You know except Kensi is a girl, woman...lacking a Y chromosome, whatever, what I mean is...she's my partner..." he trailed off, cringing at how downtrodden his voice sounded.

"Yeah, keep tellin' yourself that," Danny murmured, before nudging the liaison as two black sedans pulled up at the entrance, were waved through by the guards and made a speedy assent towards them.

"Okay everybody," Sam smirked, "it's show time."

* * *

Kensi plunged the knife into the box and ripped it open, her eyes as wide as saucers as she saw bags and bags of cocaine, what must have been over a hundred thousand dollars in street value, tucked inside it. Doing a quick head-count, she clocked fourteen boxes lined up against the wall – that was a hell of a lot of money right there.

She exchanged a glance at Charlie (who was now gagged) and shook her head before she began pushing the heavy boxes over to the entrance, stacking them high on top of one another when suddenly a shot rang out.

She paused in her movements and listened intently as a wave of gunfire sounded from outside and she knew, just _knew_ in her heart that it was her team.

Despite this, she knew she had to be ready for anything, so, she put stacked the last box and took the pistol up off the floor and aimed it at the door.

If it were the wrong guys who opened it, she was prepared to shoot her way out.

* * *

"Get down!" Deeks yelled, shoving Danny to the ground as one of Delano's men fired a head-shot in their direction.

The two detectives sprawled out on the dusty ground as a hail of bullets rained down on them.

"Danny! Deeks! You alright?" Steve yelled over the coms as he and Callen leapt to take cover behind a forklift.

"We're good!" Danny shouted, rolling to the right behind a container as Deeks rolled to the left.

Sam and Kono edged forward, the Hawaiian clocking one guy in the chest as Sam got the other in the neck.

Two down, five to go.

Meanwhile, Callen and Steve took out two guys that had edged around the vehicle, one in the shoulder, the other in the back.

Four down, three to go.

Quickly, Deeks and Danny edged closer to the center of the activity where Delano stood, two of his cronies at either side of him, guns raised and firing. The two detectives took them down easily, before advancing on Delano.

But the ex-cop took off like a bat outta hell, darting to the left and past the rest of the team. They all (sans Deeks) leapt into action, hot on his heels, with Kono being the closest. She gritted her teeth, her feet pounding the pavement, her heart racing in her chest as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her, the dirty, rotten convict squared in her sights as she edged ever close to him.

Delano pointed his gun behind him as he ran, shooting aimlessly but they missed and ricocheted off the storage containers. It was like a maze, lines and lines of identical large, rectangular boxes surrounding them and soon, Delano found himself at a dead end. Kono smirked as she gained the advantage, using Frank's pause as the opportune moment to tackle him to the ground, using her full body weight to subdue him, pulling his arms roughly behind his back and retraining them with a zip tie.

The rest of the team skidded to a halt as they saw the criminal flat out on the ground, his face rubbed into the dirt and breathed a sigh of relief, satisfied smirks lining each of their faces.

And that was why Kono was kickass.

Coming forward, Steve and Danny hauled Delano up off the ground as Kono dusted herself off, glaring daggers at the guy. Sam and Callen watched open-mouthed as suddenly she swung her fist at his face, it connecting with his jaw with a loud crack.

"That's for Chin and Malia you sonofabitch!" she growled before she rapidly delivered a blow to his stomach, "that's for Kensi," she hissed before kneeing him roughly in the groin causing him to cry out and fall to his knees. Slowly, she leaned down and whispered right into his ear, "and that...that was for me."

Yep. She was indeed Kick-Ass-Kono.

Meanwhile, Deeks shot off the padlock on the container and wrenched the door wide open, only to be met by a pistol to his head.

"Whoa, easy killer," he murmured as Kensi lowered her weapon, stepping out behind a row of boxes.

"Let me guess," she breathed, a large grin spreading across her face, "you came to beat up some bad guys, save the damsel in distress and ride off into the sunset?"

Deeks chuckled as she walked out of the container and into the evening setting sun.

"Bad guys beaten, and the damsel looks like she saved herself...wouldn't mind a ride in the sunset though," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Kensi's fist shot out and punched him in the shoulder, hard.

Sometimes, he was just ridiculous.

After a moment, Steve and Danny walked by them, heaving up one of the fallen men from off the ground. With a cheeky grin, McGarrett turned to his partner and opened his mouth.

"Book 'em—"

"Nope," Danny interrupted with a poke to Steve's shoulder, "no. You are hereby banned from saying that outside the state of Hawaii."

Deeks and Kensi exchanged a glance before Kensi shook her head and walked towards the car.

"You guys have your own catchphrase?" Deeks' mouth dropped open before his eyes landed on his retreating partner and he sprinted to her, calling loudly, "Kensi! The Five-0 boys gave me a great idea to spice up our partnership! A catchphrase!"

* * *

"Here," Deeks held out some frozen peas wrapped in a towel.

"Where did you find frozen peas?" she asked, her face puzzled.

Deeks looked around the boat-shed before leaning forward, whispering in faux-conspiracy, "I have my ways..."

She smirked, "sounds dirty."

His mouth dropped out as his own words echoed back at him. He shook his head and laughed a little before Kensi nudged him, putting the towel up to her face and watching the activity on the screen.

Steve and Danny stood there, interrogating Delano, the ex-cop smirking silently as they threw question after question at him. Kono came to stand beside Kensi, offering her and Deeks a small smile as she stood opposite the TV.

"Our flight leaves tomorrow," she told them, her eyes focussed on the screen, "Delano is being extradited back to Hawaii with a whole host of new charges," she finished before nudging Kensi.

"Wanna give him a good send-off?" she asked, throwing a raised eyebrow over her shoulder before heading to the interrogation room.

Kensi and Deeks exchanged a glance before the agent followed the officer, entering the room as Danny exited.

"He's all yours Blye," he smirked, patting her shoulder before making his way over to Deeks.

Kensi stepped into the room and snapped the door shut behind her, Kono standing directly in front of Delano as Steve stood off to the side, observing intently.

The agent took her place beside the officer, folding her arms across her chest, glowering down at the ex-cop.

Delano, for his part, merely stared, his lips lifted in a half-grin.

"Your guys are talkin' Delano," Kensi began, an air of dominance to her tone, "won't be long now till we have the full story."

Frank remained silent.

"That's gotta piss ya off, right Frank?" Kono took over, stepping over to his left and bending down to whisper in his ear, her eyes flickering to Kensi. The agent got the message and mirrored her action, stepping to Delano's right and leaning down to him.

"We know about the drugs...about the shipment to Mexico...with those charges, along with, about three dozen others from Hawaii and oh I don't know, coercing an officer of the law to break him out of prison by threatening his wife and family and then ordering the murder of both...looks like you're going away for a long time Frank..." she trailed off, catching Kensi's eye as she took over.

"And there's really just one important thing you gotta remember about prison Frank," she murmured softly, her voice as sharp as knives, as she leaned even closer to him and whispered in his ear, "_never_ drop the soap..."

Back outside, two blond detectives stood open-mouthed, staring at the TV.

"Whoa," Deeks murmured to Danny, "how awesome are Kick-Ass-Kono and Bad-Ass-Blye?"

After another few minutes, the positively gleeful brunettes exited the room and made their way back out to their teammates, grinning and laughing with each other. Apparently, after bonding over their mutual hatred of Frank Delano, they were to be firm friends.

Back inside the interrogation room, Steve didn't bother hiding his smirk as he trudged back over to the table, laying his palms flat down on it.

"Don't look so smug McGarrett, this was never your fight," Delano growled, glaring at him straight in the eye.

"Oh really? Why not? As far as I'm concerned, you mess with my people, you mess with me," his responded, his face growing dark with anger.

"Nah," Frank waved off his words, "you've too much on your plate to worry about little ol' me. Wo Fat is a pretty bad guy..."

Steve's jaw clenched, his eyes flickering up to the camera for a moment, as if trying to summon strength from his partner who monitored absorbedly, fists balled at his sides.

"Wo Fat is in prison," he growled, finding Delano's azure orbs again.

"Yeah," Delano agreed, sitting forward a little, seeming to be enjoying himself now, "but for how long?"

* * *

Five pairs of tired feet trudged into OSP only to be met near the entrance by a petite brunette.

"Good work everyone," Hetty congratulated them, shaking the hands of McGarrett, Williams and Kalakaua.

"It was very good to meet you all, hopefully every time we find ourselves in the same state it won't have to be under such circumstances," she nodded with a small smile before shuffling to the door, calling over her shoulder, "oh and...Mr. Hanna and Mr. Callen expressed their desire for you to meet them at a bar, something about owing you a drink..." she trailed off, continuing on her way without a backwards glance.

"Won't you be joining us, Hetty?" Danny called after her, "you look like the kinda woman that could drink anyone under the table."

Hetty laughed, shaking her head as she heard the detective's cheeky remark, "and don't you forget it, Detective Williams."

The five cops shared a laugh as they watched her retreating back before shaking themselves and looking about them.

"So, we got a bit of time to kill right McGarrett? A beer sounds great to me," Danny rubbed his hands together, looking expectantly at his partner.

Steve rolled his eyes and shrugged, "yeah sure, a beer would be great. You guys know where they are?" he asked Kensi and Deeks.

The other partners shared a grin and nodded.

"Yeah, we know the one, we can take my car, don't think I'll be drinking tonight," Kensi replied, gesturing to her face that was now turning a shade of purple.

Deeks hid a grimace before he clicked his fingers, suddenly remembering something.

"Yeah, sounds good Kens, I just gotta make one stop first."

* * *

Deeks walked towards a bushy-haired man, sitting alone at a bar, nursing a beer.

"Hey Louis," he said softly, patting the young man on the back as he sat down.

"Hey," he murmured in reply, not lifting his eyes from the photo still clasped in his hand.

"So uh...I wanted to thank you for making that call to Delano, getting him to come to the storage containers. We got him and his men, they're all behind bars."

Louis nodded lightly, still not looking at him.

"That's good," he responded in a monotone.

Deeks lowered his head, trying to catch the man's eye.

"So, to say a proper thank you, I uh...there's someone here to see you," he mumbled before gesturing to someone behind them.

Interest peaked, Louis turned and when he saw who was now standing there, his face lit up like 4th of July fireworks.

"Melissa!" he exclaimed excitedly as she stepped into his arms and hugged him tightly.

Deeks stood up and away from the bar, a small smile gracing his face as he watched the two.

"That's a nice thing you did," a voice sounded from behind him.

He turned and offered his partner a sheepish grin.

"I'm more than just a pretty face, you know," he informed her with a wink before walking back out and towards the car, his partner hot on his heels.

* * *

The gang heaved a roar of laughter as Deeks finished the joke, all of them crammed around a circular table, drinks and food overflowing the surface. Kensi shook her head in amusement as everyone (including Eric and Nell) around her grew merry with alcohol, she sipping her soda attentively, trying to ignore the pain in her jaw.

"So how did you guys meet anyway?" Danny asked suddenly as the laughter died down, gesturing between Sam and Steve.

"That's classified," they answered in unison.

"I hate you..." Danny growled, punching Steve in the arm.

"You love me," he grinned.

"I tolerate you."

"Liar."

"Have you guys thought about couples' therapy?" Callen asked as he and Sam exchanged a glance.

Danny sat forward, a grimace on his face, "it didn't work with when I was with my wife so I don't see how it'd work now—"

"Wait, does that mean I'm the wife in this scenario?" Steve cut in, looking scandalised.

"Whoa, looks like they're heading for divorce..." Deeks interjected, smirking at the two partners.

"Yeah, and I always thought it was against police rules for co-workers to even date, huh..." Kensi continued thoughtfully, scratching her chin.

"Ha, ha, you two are hilarious," Danny deadpanned before continuing, "pity Hetty couldn't join us."

"Looks like someone's got a soft spot for the Lange," Deeks teased as Danny folded his arms.

"Nope, the Lange has a thing for me actually, I'm the 'cheeky detective' after all..." he trailed off, winking at Deeks.

"Oh please Williams, Hetty only likes you 'cause she finally has someone she can look in the eye without standing on some—" Danny thumped Deeks hard in the shoulder, cutting him off abruptly before standing up and calling, "alright, who wants another?"

Eight hands shot up into the air and the detective rolled his eyes.

"I'll help ya man," Deeks laughed, rubbing his shoulder one last time before standing up from the table and walking over to the bar with him.

As they left, Kensi nudged Steve who leaned forward so he could hear her.

"Think we should be worried?"

"About what?"

"Deeks and Danny leaving us and running away together?"

Steve snorted as Kensi grinned, a chuckle shaking her shoulders.

Over at the bar as they waited for the drinks, Deeks and Danny watched their partners. After a moment, the Jersey-native's gaze adverted to his companion, smirking as he caught the sheer fondness on the blond's face as he stared over at Kensi laughing with Steve.

"You still sticking to your bromance story?" he asked, nudging him with his elbow.

Deeks stared down at him for a moment, schooling his face into more a neutral expression before replying boldly, "are you?"

Danny snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Ha, ha, looks like we got a comedian—" he broke off as he saw Steve suddenly stand up and away from the table, cell-phone in hand. He stared at the taskforce leader's face, dread rising in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong. He knew it. Something was very wrong.

Deeks frowned at Danny's sudden silence as they gathered up the beer and brought it over to the table, before sitting down. There was a subtle shift in mood however, as Danny and Kono failed to commit to any conversation and visibly tensed as McGarrett made his way back over to the table, looking at them all, stunned.

"Steve, what's wrong?" Danny bit his lips, frowning.

Azure eyes met a sky blue.

"That was the Governor," Steve breathed, his tone deflated, "it's Wo Fat. He's escaped."

* * *

A soft knock echoed throughout her apartment as she stretched her aching limbs. With a frown, the agent muted the TV and plonked over the door, shifting aside the drapes and frowning in confusion at who stood on her doorstep.

"Deeks," she grumbled opening her door and stepping aside, not bothering to fight him, "what're you doing here? I thought you were going home to bed?"

"I couldn't sleep...kept thinking about McGarrett," he murmured before sinking down onto her couch.

"Didn't think he was your type," she smirked before locking her door and joining him on the sofa, turning the volume up on the TV and offering her partner a soda from her coffee table.

Deeks stuck out his tongue out at her before grinned, "tall, brunette, kick-ass, he's exactly my type...you know, if he was a she."

The agent gaped, not knowing what to say to that until it suddenly occurred to her.

"Ah, so your type would be more say...Kono..." she trailed off, lifting an eyebrow.

He shook his head, his tousled hair becoming even more messy.

"Nah, Kono was awesome but not my type. She's a weird mix, a lot like me...and you too, kinda like if you and me had a—" he cut himself off abruptly, shaking his head as a flush crept up his neck.

"A what Deeks? Kensi asked, her head cocked to the side, a knowing grin on her face.

Her partner adverted his gaze, focusing on the TV as he mumbled, "so, who's this Wo Fat guy anyway?"

Kensi shook her head and took the bait, trying to find the right words.

"He's Steve's...nemesis."

Deeks frowned, turning to look at her, "I didn't think real people had nemeses...nemesisi?"

"That's rich coming from the guy with a list of enemies longer than my arm," she scoffed, before wincing, pressing a palm to her sore jaw.

Concerned cerulean eyes fell on her as Deeks itched to reach out and stroke her cheek, restraining himself just barely. He had been so...frightened, had felt so...helpless today and was just bathing in a shower of relief at every second spent in Kensi's company. Somehow, his partner seemed to sense this and mumbled softly:

"You came for me."

Her polychrome eyes met his.

"I'll always come for you," he replied, sincerity and honour in his tone.

"Sounds dirty," she winked and his mouth dropped open.

"That's my line!" he half-yelled, seeming scandalised.

She gently shoved him as he tilted his head back and took a swig from his soda.

"So, Kick-ass Kono and Bad-ass Blye was pretty hot to watch," he remarked as he set down his drink on the table and leaned his head back onto the couch, his eyes on the ceiling.

She pursed her lips, choosing to ignore the 'hot' comment and go for a reply she knew would get the desired response, "yep, we're the ultimate Dynamic Duo."

Deeks leapt forward as if electrocuted, "nuh uh, we're the Dynamic Duo – Deeks and Kensi!"

"Kensi and Deeks," she corrected with a laugh.

"Keeks."

"What?" she asked, copying his prior position and tilting her head back to rest on the couch.

"Keeks...you know, like an amalgamation of our names," he explained, taking up the position again, his body mere inches from hers.

"Oh, like Densi," she smirked, her eyes fluttering closed.

"I like Keeks better, sounds like something you'd call a stripper."

"Yeah and nothing sums up our relationship like a good stripper name," she scolded, reaching out and smacking him with her eyes still closed, with satisfying results.

"You said relationship again," he pointed out, rubbing his abdomen gently.

"I said partnership," she replied stubbornly, cracking one eye open to stare at him as he threw her his cheekiest grin.

"Sure ya did Kens, sure ya did."

**A/N: Oh. My. God. I'm. So. Tired. All I've the energy left to say is please review! I would greatly appreciate it after the crazy amount of time this has taken me lol. Hope you guys liked it! :D**

**Oh and SORRY if there's mistakes, I'm half-asleep as I finish this (it's 2am here and I wanted to just get it done lol) and probably missed some things when proof-reading :/**

**~Ck**

**RECENTLY EDITED: OOPS! So sorry! In my tiredness last night I totally forgot about the teaser so, here ya go:**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

_**"Mrs Feld—uh Julia! This...this isn't what it looks like!" Deeks held one hand up in surrender whilst the other clutched the towel around his waist.**_

_**Julia's eyebrows shot up.**_

_**"Oh really, Marty? Because it looks like you're in my daughter's home alone in the middle of the day wet and naked as the day you were born."**_

_**Deeks glanced down at himself, a sheepish, embarrassed grin forming on his face as a blush crept up his neck and spread all the way up to his hairline.**_

_**"Oh, ha! Would ya look at that...it's exactly what it looks like..."**_


	19. Snarf

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 19: Snarf**

**A/N: Okay so, time for some light-hearted fun, because frankly I'm too exhausted to write anything too serious at the minute lol. **

**Dedicated to:**_** lisbonloafers**_** who loves the idea of more Julia and Deeks interaction as much as I do! :D *crosses fingers for more in season 4***

**NOTE: There is gonna be a huge Deeks!Central fic (probably starting around chapter 22 or so) coming up soon, and will more than likely be IV parts all about his past and kinda like what I hope a 'Deeks, M' episode would look like. Anyway, for now, some fun! Enjoy! =]**

* * *

**WOTD: SNARF; ****sn****·****ar****·****f **_**noun; verb**_**. (1) The act of laughing while drinking and expelling liquid through one's nose; (2) To fall asleep with one's clothes on**

Deeks' mouth dropped open, gaping like a fish as his eyes landed on Kensi's mom, standing opposite him with her arms folded, her head tilted to the side as she regarded him with pursed lips, her chocolate eyes boring into his.

"Mrs Feld—uh Julia! This...this isn't what it looks like!" Deeks held one hand up in surrender whilst the other clutched the towel around his waist.

Julia's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh really, Marty? Because it looks like you're in my daughter's home alone in the middle of the day, wet and naked as the day you were born."

Deeks glanced down at himself, a sheepish, embarrassed grin forming on his face as a blush crept up his neck and spread all the way up to his hairline.

"Oh, ha! Would ya look at that...it's exactly what it looks like..."

* * *

_Two Hours Earlier_

"Oh come on Kens..." Deeks snorted as he and his partner walked along the beach, he in his wetsuit and she with his surfboard under her arm.

Kensi glared at him, her nose scrunched up in a grimace as she barely suppressed a shiver.

"It's just—ugh!" she exclaimed, a quiver overwhelming her body for a moment as she threw him a sideways glance.

The detective couldn't keep the smirk off his face.

"It's alright Kens, the big, bad, hairy man is gone," he chuckled, as she continued to scowl, her mind constantly replaying the image of a large man with the back worthy of any gorilla that was sprawled out beside her as she watched Deeks surf. Not only had it been so thick that it matted while he rubbed in sun-screen but it then got caked with sand – something that was stuck in Kensi's peripheral vision for over an hour. As a result, her Chaetophobia was back in full swing, repugnance flooding her veins.

"You know Kens, my back's completely hairless," her partner laughed, wiggling his eyebrows as they walked along the tide-line, their toes digging deep into sludgy, soggy sand.

"So is your chest, god Deeks, did you even hit puberty?" she teased, rolling her eyes at him.

"When were you lookin' at my chest?" he inquired, his tone inquisitive and smug.

"Oh I don't know...maybe I caught a glimpse of it when I was hauling your ass out of that killer sauna..." she trailed off sarcastically, her two-toned eyes catching his cerulean ones under the midday sun.

"Odd time to be checking me out partner, you know, if you wanted a closer look of my fine physique, all ya had to do was ask—ow! Kensi!" Deeks yelled as she smacked him on the back with his own surfboard, causing him to stumble and drop his belongings into the water.

Kensi burst out laughing as she saw his duffel bag (containing his clothes) become soaked, sand and seaweed flooding it. Deeks grimaced as he picked it back up, a strand of seaweed clutched between his forefinger and thumb before he flung it at her, grinning with satisfaction as it landed in her hair.

"Deeks!" she scolded, shaking her hair vigorously before kicking her foot through the water, splashing him.

"Uh, wet-suit, Kens," he reminded her before kicking water at her.

"Yeah, and now your only clothes," she pointed to his ruined duffel bag as she wiped droplets of water off her knees.

"Oh hell no, I'm not trekking water and sand through my apartment building, Mrs. Davis already thinks I take advantage of inebriated young women, I'm not having her knowing I surf too – she'll make it her mission to get me evicted for being a 'no-good-waster' and 'a menace to society,'" he grumbled, running a hand through his damp mop of golden locks.

"Which one is Mrs. Davis again?" Kensi asked with a shake of her head.

"The one with popsicle-like hair," Deeks murmured under his breath.

"What?"

"Uh she's the woman who lives in the apartment opposite mine," he said clearer as they reached the edge of the beach.

"Oh, the one that always looks at me weird?"

Deeks couldn't contain his smirk as he nodded, thankful that his partner couldn't remember why it was exactly that Mrs. Davis always stared at her as if she were the devil incarnate.

"Oh no you don't!" Kensi shouted suddenly as they arrived at her car and he reached out to open the door.

"What?" he asked, wrenched his hand away as if the handle burned him.

"You are so not getting into my car wet and covered in sand," she informed him, shoving his surfboard into the backseat along with her bag.

"Then how else am I supposed to get home and changed?"

That stumped the agent for a moment before an idea struck her.

"Okay, you walk to my place, it's closest, and I'll swing by your place and get you some clothes," she reasoned, folding her arms and awaiting his protests. He did not disappoint.

"You expect me to walk through the streets of LA all the way to your house in nothing but a wet-suit?" he gaped.

"This is LA Deeks, wouldn't be the weirdest thing anyone has seen...and you've got sandals," she smirked before hopping into the driver's seat and starting the engine.

"I won't be long," she called over the sound of the engine, "and put down some towels wherever you sit!"

And like that she was off, pulling out of the space and driving away from him, her eyes alive with mirth as they trained on her partner in the rear view mirror, chuckling as she saw him yell something after her before throwing up his arms and beginning to walk.

The exercise would do him good...

* * *

The short walk from the beach to Kensi Blye's house had never felt as long to Marty Deeks as it did today. As if the universe was plotting against him, it happened to be incredibly hot in Los Angeles this particular afternoon, with the sun beaming down on the back of the hapless detective's neck, his black wetsuit attracting the intense heat and causing things to get a little...uncomfortable.

If that wasn't bad enough, the sun wasn't the only thing he attracted – many eyes followed his trek as he trudged his feet, clad in flip-flops, down the street, dripping droplets of water still falling from his hair, his suit glued to him as the soaked duffle bag hung off his shoulder.

"Oh thank God..." Deeks murmured when Kensi's house eventually came within sight.

Shoving his hand in the soggy bag, suppressing a grimace, he retrieved his keys from the pocket and plucked his spare key to his partner's home and unlocked her door. A wave of cool breeze hit him immediately as he stepped in the door and closed it behind him; apparently Kensi had cranked the A.C up to eleven. With a shudder from the rapid change in temperature he went in search of some towels.

It was weird being in someone else's home when they weren't there (this coming from a man who inspected suspects' places for a living) but it was even stranger that this home belonged to Kensi Marie Blye. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul and if that is the case, than to him the home is the window to the psyche. Marty Deeks could tell a lot about a person by the kind of abode they kept and while he never walked through the house with his eyes closed; this was the first time the detective got to really observe it up close and personal.

The funny thing was, it didn't feel intrusive, like he was being disruptive in any way, maybe it was because he'd been there many times and felt comfortable, he didn't know but his body acted almost as if it was on autopilot as he made his way to the bathroom.

It was there, leaning on the sink, where Deeks heaved a sigh, creaked his neck and rolled his shoulders before his eyes flickered to the mirror and his gaze landed on something behind him. A light bulb flashed on in his brain. His partner was more than likely going to kill him for this but...he figured she owed him after making him walk all the from the beach in nothing but essentially a second skin.

A smirk stretched across his face as his eyes twinkled mischievously.

A shower would feel amazing...

* * *

"He's a police officer you know," a voice suddenly sounded from behind her as she closed her partner's door and whirled around.

"Uh, excuse me?" she asked politely, as her eyes landed on the familiar Mrs. Davis who was glaring steadily at her over bottle-neck glasses.

"Marty in 21B, he's a cop," she clarified sharply, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

Kensi stared at her for a moment, shifting the bag full of Deeks' belongings in her arms.

"Uh yeah, I know, De—uh Marty is a friend," she smiled brightly, before locking up and making her way over to the elevator.

"Oh I know what kind of _friend _you are missy," she replied uncouthly, a steel edge to her tone.

The agent gaped, the implication crystal clear, virtually slapping her in the face.

"What—"

"Well, Marty's _friend_, a word of advice, the next time you want to make a fool of yourself and get stupidly intoxicated, please refrain from returning to this establishment as I like to sleep peacefully at night and do not like getting my face licked by strangers," she snapped before turning on her heel and stomping back into her apartment, slamming the door behind her.

Kensi's eyes were as wide as saucers, her jaw practically on the floor.

_What the hell was that about?_

* * *

Steam filled the rectangular bathroom as the shower door slid open. With bleary eyes, Deeks peered through the fog and snatched up the large, white towel from the rail. Leaning forward, he wiped the condensation off the mirror, towel-dried his hair for a moment before the shrill ring of the doorbell caught his attention.

With a frown of confusion, he padded out of the room, the steam escaping in wisps out into the living room as he trudged towards the door, calling all the way:

"Forgot your keys again did ya Kens? Seriously I told you before tha—"

Deeks' voice died in his throat as he swung open the door and revealed none other than Julia Feldman, Kensi's mom standing on the threshold, staring silently at him.

_Oh shit..._

* * *

Kensi climbed out of her car with a scowl on her face. Just who the hell did that old bat think she was? What had she ever done to her? Obviously, Deeks had brought back some undesirable brunette recently who Mrs. Davis was confusing as the NCIS Agent. That was the only explanation. And what the hell was that 'stranger licking her face' remark? Had she gone crazy or something?

Just as she was starting to worry about the old woman's mental health, her eyes landed on her door, only to find it ajar, the voice of her partner wafting from it. With a sigh, wondering if her partner too had gone insane, she picked up the pace and pushed her way through the door:

"Hey Deeks, what the hell is wrong with Mrs.—Mom!"

Kensi gasped as she drank in the scene in front of her. There, standing in the middle of her living room was her mother and her partner, but that wasn't what was shocking. Oh no, what grabbed her attention was the small fact that said partner was clad in nothing but a towel, (one of her bathroom towels upon further inspection), dripping wet as he averted his eyes, hands on his hips, trying and failing to look innocent.

"Hello sweetheart," her mom replied, cocking her head to the side, eye brow raised as she smirked knowingly at her.

"Uh...De...Deeks I—here," she stammered holding out the bag containing his clothes and glaring daggers at him, subtly tilting her head at the bathroom door, her expression silently hissing _get in there and get dressed now before I shoot you_.

Deeks' body however had another plan as his legs glued him to the floor, his gaze shifting nervously from mother to daughter and back again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you and Marty had plans, I'll just leave these with you and get out of your way..." she trailed off with a grin, handing two plastic bags to Kensi before smirking at Deeks.

Kensi jumped, reaching out to catch her mother's arm gently, her brain scrambling frantically, trying to think of something, anything, to say.

"No mom, stay, Deeks and I are not...there's nothing going...we've nothing to hide!"

"Well," Julia bit her lip, motioning to the area surrounding Deeks' towel, "I wouldn't say that."

The brunette's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as her partner cleared his throat loudly.

"Uh...I'll just—yeah," he motioned to the door behind him before turning on his heel, one hand still gripping the towel so hard his knuckles were turning white, practically running out of the room.

Kensi and Julia were plunged into an awkward silence as the younger woman's eyes glued to the floor, the penetrating stare of her mother sweeping over her like an x-ray.

"I—I just gotta ask him something," she excused herself, calling over her shoulder, "make yourself at home mom, I'll be right back."

Even with her back turned, she knew her mother was smirking at her. This was not good.

She was going to _kill_ Deeks!

With a clenched jaw, she flung open her bathroom door and stormed into in, glancing around wildly, a blush creeping up her neck as she caught Deeks doing up the fly on his jeans, still shirtless.

"Kens what—"

"What the hell are you doing?" she poked him hard in the shoulder, trying to keep her voice at a low hiss.

"Ow what—"

"You just waltz in here and decide use MY shower? Then answer MY door to MY mother in your birthday suit? Are you crazy?" she continued, each 'my' punctuated with a round of pokes.

"Ow, ow and ow! That hurt Kens..." he trailed off, trying his best to look innocent but not quite pulling it off, being shirtless and all.

"Will you just get dressed?" she demanded, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Huh."

"What?"

Deeks shook his head, shrugging his shoulders.

"Nothing, it's just—I'm not used to women telling me to put my clothes back on."

Kensi glared and punched him in the chest, hard.

"Need I remind you, you were just standing naked in front of my mother?" she hissed, eyes flaring.

"Ow! Okay one, I was only semi-naked and two, will you stop beating me up and let me explain?" he grumbled, rubbing his chest.

Her eyebrows rose in a challenge, her arms folding across her chest, her body language screaming, _okay then surfer boy, talk yourself out of this one_.

"I—"

"Marty! Are you staying for dinner?" Julia called from the kitchen, effectively cutting of what would have been admittedly a sorry excuse from the blond detective.

Deeks' eyes migrated to his partner's in silent question.

"I—I don't think so Mrs Feldman, I should probably get going!" he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as Kensi rolled her eyes.

"Oh nonsense, stay! The more the merrier, right Kens?" she asked, warmth in her raised tone.

A small smile slid across Deeks' face as Kensi heaved a sigh, levelling her gaze to his, which was admittedly difficult seeing as he stood not a foot from her in nothing but jeans.

_Focus Blye, focus..._

"Right mom, sure, the more the merrier," she yelled as her partner's slightly nervous blue orbs bore into her.

"Hey Kens, it's fine really I can—"

"No, no...stay," she murmured firmly before turning on her heel and stalking out, calling over her shoulder, "just put a damn shirt on, Tarzan."

* * *

A rumble of laughter filled the kitchen as Julia, Kensi and Deeks sat around the small, circular table, sipping red wine and swapping stories as they finished their delicious meal that the elder brunette graciously prepared.

"Oh my god, she didn't," Deeks laughed as Kensi buried her face in her hands.

"Mom—"

"Oh yes, she did, right in front of everybody," Julia chuckled, "just stood up there, with her tutu tucked into her underwear and shook her booty for all the world to see..."

The detective snorted into his glass, shaking his head, his shoulders shaking as he continued to laugh silently. His partner's glare was boring into him but he didn't care, merrily tucking into his chicken.

"So, what about you, Marty? Any funny stories from your childhood?" Julia asked innocently, raising her eyebrows at him.

The detective and the agent exchanged a quick glance, before he cleared his throat and took another sip of wine.

"Uh, not really no but, I do have a good one from when I was in Law school—"

"You were in Law School?" Kensi's mom interrupted, her tone alive with awe as she nudged her daughter with her elbow.

"Oh and he's every bit as smart as you said he was!" she beamed before standing up and walking over to the fringe.

Deeks leaned over a little and murmured under his breath, "you said I was smart?"

Kensi inclined into him, her breath bouncing off his jaw, "I said you were a smart-ass."

He erupted in a chortle just as Julia arrived back at the table, an apple pie in her hands.

"Now, it's store-bought but...it's probably still good," she grinned, placing it in the middle of the table before beginning to clear away the plates.

Deeks stood up and immediately began helping her and didn't notice when Julia threw another pleased glance in her daughter's direction. Kensi merely rolled her eyes before taking another sip of wine.

After dinner had been cleared away, the detective came back with fresh plates and forks as Julia cut the pie. The three of them devoured it in minutes, opening a new bottle of wine. As if she timed it perfectly, Julia waited precisely until the moment where both partners were taking a large gulp of their drinks before commenting:

"You know Marty; you would make a wonderful son-in-law."

Kensi choked as those words rang in her ears, spluttering as she felt the wine go down the wrong way, coughing and grimacing as fluid squirted from her nose. She cautiously avoided the blond's gaze as she grabbed a napkin and covered her mouth, trying and failing to catch all the liquid. What the hell was her mom trying to do to her!

Deeks for his part, kept his cool as he saw a trail of droplets escape down his partner's chin and bit his lip, his gaze finding Julia's and holding it.

"You know," she continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary, "with manners and charm like yours, you would make the perfect son-in-law for _someone_, someday..."she trailed off before standing up again, this time clearing off the dessert plates. When Deeks stood up again, she shooed him, "no, no don't you dare Marty! You go into the living room and relax in front of the TV, Kensi and I will clear up the rest."

The detective in Deeks knew that it was a subtle tactic to get him out of the room, but the curious, mischievous fourteen-year-old in him wanted to know what he'd be missing. He was not a stupid man however so he gracefully bowed out and went to see what was on the idiot box, trying desperately not to give into his overwhelming desire to eavesdrop, he had more respect than that after all.

Once the door was shut firmly behind her partner, Kensi whirled around to her mom and hissed viciously, "what the hell was that?"

Julia merely shrugged her shoulders, her eyes bulging, "what? I was only making an observation."

"An observation. Really?" she heaved herself up from the table and stalked over to her mother.

"Saying that the walls are cream is an observation, saying that the plates are round is an observation, but saying that my partner would make a good son in law for you is something that should not be observed, ever!" she scowled, folding her arms and trying to control the fleeting panic, irritation and unease seeping into her veins, her eyes frantically darting to the closed door, her ears perking, trying to determine if the TV was on.

Julia rolled her eyes and put her hand on her daughter's arm to try and calm her.

"Okay honey, one, I said he would make a good son-in-law to_ someone_ someday and two why should I keep those observations to myself? Marty is a wonderful young man and the sooner you realize that he is perfect for—"

"No! No, no, mom, not this again—"

"Yes this again Kensi. Now I...I know that I have no right to stake claim over anything in your life but...but when we reunited, I—I hoped that maybe I could have an opinion or at least offer any advice on some things and trust me when I say sweetheart...that man out there, he's good and kind and sweet and...perfect for you. Now, maybe you can't see it or maybe you don't want to, but I can see it. I can see how you are when he's around. How your entire body lights up when you see him, how much you enjoy his company and how much he adores—"

"Stop. Just—stop," Kensi interrupted her with a held up hand and a shake of her head. As her mother spoke, the agent had paced back and forth and now she stood stock still with her back turned, chewing on her left thumb-nail.

"Kensi I—"

Kensi whirled around and bit her lip, her polychrome eyes shining brightly in the dim light of the kitchen. Mother and daughter stared at one another for a long moment, complete and utter silence engulfing them. With a soft sigh, Kensi took an attentive step towards Julia and rested her palm on her forearm.

"Thank you mom, I—I know what you're trying to do but really...I'm fine. Mine and Deeks' relationship is fine like it is. We're partners, friends, co-workers and that's how it should stay...how it _has_ to stay..." she trailed off, ignoring the slight crack in her tone and the sensation of her heart sinking into her stomach.

"But why?"

Well, that was the sixty-four thousand dollar question wasn't it? So, Kensi went with the old reliable.

"Because inter-office relationships aren't allowed," she said firmly, swallowing deeply and averting her eyes.

Julia nodded slowly, apparently accepting that explanation. Kensi heaved an inner sigh of relief, opening her mouth to change the subject only to be interrupted by the shrill ring of a cell-phone.

"Oh honey I'm sorry that's me, you mind if I take this?" Julia asked as she snatched her phone up off the table.

"Yeah sure, go ahead, I'll be in the living room," Kensi murmured as she walked out of the room, trying to put the pent-up-feelings back in their place and get back to normal.

"Anything good on?" she asked as Deeks came into sight, his body sprawled in a half-sitting, half-lying position, his eyes trained on the TV.

"Some show about a cop and a writer," he shrugged, patting the seat and grinning as Kensi sat down beside him, their thighs an inch apart.

"Okay," she mumbled non-commitedly before turning her attention to the TV, ignoring her partner's gaze that landed on her.

"Your mom's awesome," he said after a bit of comfortable silence.

"Yeah, she is," she agreed, still not looking at him.

"She'd make a good mother-in-law," he continued and her eyes snapped to him but his were now on the TV.

"You know, for _someone_, someday..." he trailed off, his words almost echoing in the room.

Kensi's eyes stayed glued to him for a long moment, before she shifted on the couch a little, her shoulder just touching his.

"Yeah..." she replied, her eyelids beginning to grow heavy, "maybe..."

* * *

After hanging up the phone, Julia glanced at her watch and was shocked to find that over an hour had passed. She really didn't mean to chat to Margie that long but time just flew and...oh god, Kensi and Marty probably thought she was so rude!

With a shake of her head, Julia grabbed her purse and made her way out into the living room, calling:

"Hey I'm so sorry I—"

Words stuck in her throat, her feet gluing to the floor. With a soft smile and glimmering eyes, she drank in the sheer beauty of the sight in front of her. There, not ten feet from her, was her daughter, her head leaning on Marty's shoulder, his arm flung around the back the couch, his fingers rested gently on her arm – both fast asleep.

Biting her lip and trying to contain the strong emotion that was erupting in her chest, the elder brunette reached over and turned off the TV before tip-toeing as quietly as she could over to the armchair and grabbing the throw-blanket. With great caution, she leaned down and draped the blanket over her daughter and the detective before retrieving her keys and padding to the door.

With one last look over her shoulder, she snapped a quick photo on her phone (she just couldn't resist it – after all, maybe her stubborn daughter would listen if she provided some proof) and opened the door gently before stepping out into the night and locking it behind her, a satisfied smile on her face.

It was only a matter of time, she knew. Marty Deeks would one day be the perfect son-in-law, one she could brag about to all her friends. You mark her words.

**A/N: I just want to apologize for the slight delay in posting new chapters, I am still unwell and am not writing as quickly or as efficiently as I'd like to. I hope you guys understand.**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"**You're my partner, and I love you," the words escaped his lips before his foggy mind could stop him.**

"**Wow. You must be drunk off your ass if you're throwing around the L word," she murmured, trying to ignore the rapid increase of her heartbeat and the shortness of breath.**

"**I thought the L word was Lesbian?"**


	20. Eccedentesiast

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 20: Eccedentesiast **

**A/N: Thank you so much! Your response to the last chapter was overwhelming! I'm in your debt :D**

**This chapter was painful to write...sad!Deeks just breaks my heart :(**

**Disclaimer: NCIS: LA still isn't mine. =[**

**NOTE: This could be considered a prequel what's coming up in chapter 22. The events depicted here (and the final scene in the next chapter) will be referenced again the IV-Part 'Deeks, M' storyline – chapter 22, 23, 24 & 25.**

**WARNING: DARK THEMES AHEAD**

* * *

**WOTD: ECCEDENTESIAST; ec****·****ced****·****en****·****te****·****si****·****ast **_**noun**_**. One who fakes a smile**

"You're my partner, and I love you," he murmured, the words escaping his lips before his foggy mind could stop them.

There was a beat of silence as polychrome and cerulean orbs met, the latter a little misty. Kensi swallowed deeply, before forcing out a humourless, nervous laugh.

"Wow. You must be drunk off your ass if you're throwing around the L word," she murmured, trying to ignore the rapid increase of her heartbeat and her shortness of breath.

"I thought the L word was Lesbian?"

She knew it was his way of diffusing the tension and in that moment she was grateful for it. Inebriated or not, those words coming out of her partner's mouth was just petrifying, shocking and something she really had no idea how to answer, but she had to say something, anything to make this right.

"Deeks—"

"Shh..." he pressed a finger to her lips before leaning closer to her, his mouth an inch from hers...

* * *

_Two Hours Earlier..._

"Another, my good man," Marty Deeks called as he slammed an empty glass down on the bar.

The bar-tender, a short, robust man of about fifty named Eddie, shook his head as he poured another measure of whiskey. It was the detective's sixth in the last hour and it was beginning to take its toll on the blond man, who was somewhat slumped over, his face resting in his palm as his bleary eyes tilted to the TV that hung from the wall.

Deeks nodded his thanks and immediately knocked it back down in one large gulp. Eddie frowned as he motioned silently for another.

"Easy lad, pace yourself a little," he said gently with a western-Irish accent, "it's only early yet."

Deeks merely stared at him, his expression blank before his attention was caught by something on the television.

"Hey Ed, can you turn that up?"

Eddie shrugged and did as he asked; pointing the remote up at the TV that now had the image of young boy of around ten-years-old with blond hair and blue eyes on its screen. Deeks' eyes narrowed as he read the caption underneath the picture:

10-YEAR-OLD BOBBY WOODS FOUND BEATEN TO NEAR-DEATH IN HIS HOME THIS MORNING. POLICE TAKE HIS STEP-FATHER, 39-YEAR-OLD MARCUS WHITE IN FOR QUESTIONING AS THE BOY REMAINS IN CRITICAL CONDITION AT COUNTY GENERAL HOSPITAL...

"Terrible, poor boy," Eddie murmured quietly, his mouth twisting into a deep frown. Deeks tilted back his glass and swallowed deeply before nodding in agreement, his ears perking as he heard the news anchor begin to talk.

"Tragedy strikes in downtown Los Angeles this morning as ten-year-old Bobby Woods is found in his home, badly beaten and barely breathing by his twelve-year-old brother Dylan. Medics arrived on the scene at 10:45 as did the boys' mother to take him to hospital where he has been undergoing surgery for his injuries for the last few hours, remaining in critical condition. Authorities have arrested Marcus White, the boys' step-father in relation to the crime – more on this story as it unfolds..."

Eddie shook his head in disgust before throwing the detective a glance.

"You alright Marty?" he asked, concern lacing his tone.

Deeks' head snapped up, his eyes a little unfocused.

"I'm...fine..." he murmured, his words a little slurred.

The bar-tender's eyebrows furrowed as he watched the LAPD liaison fumble with his keys, slamming his cell phone on the bar.

"You're not gonna try drive are ya Marty? 'Cause if ya are, I'm gonna have to take the keys off ya son, you're not fit to—"

"I know Ed, I know," he grumbled before dragging both hands down his face tiredly.

"Is there...anyone you want me to call?"

"No! I—I'll be...okay," Deeks exclaimed a little louder than he intended, before he stumbled off the stool, his long legs sprawled akimbo, staggering forwards in a fashion akin to Bambi's first steps, slowly and awkwardly making his way to the restroom.

Eddie watched cautiously as he made it to the door and sighed as he slammed it behind him. With a grim face, he glanced down and saw the detective's cell-phone beside the empty glass and made a snap decision. Picking it up, he scrolled through the call history and found the name that was most frequently dialled. With a quick glance to the restroom door, he heaved a sigh and pushed the button. After only two rings, a female voice answered:

"What's up Deeks?"

"Uh...sorry to bother ya ma'am, my name is Eddie, I'm calling—"

"Is Deeks okay? Where is he?" her voice grew worried as the sounds of frantic fumbling wafted from her end.

"Uh yeah he's fine just...I own a bar down-town called 'O'Brian's' and Marty's here...he's a little...drunk ma'am, and I think that maybe he's had enough for today. Is there any chance you could come and pick him up or know anyone that could?" he paused a moment as there was more rustling on the line before her voice replied clearly:

"I'll be there in ten."

* * *

The soft crooning of Frank Sinatra omitted from a small juke-box in the corner of the dimly lit 'O'Brian's Pub' as Kensi Blye stepped in, her dark eyes scanning the place vigilantly before catching on a familiar figure. There, at the very back, slumped at the bar in jeans and a ratty tee was her partner, Marty Deeks; who was seemingly unaware of her arrival as he was too busy knocking back a glass of russet liquid.

With a furrowed brow, the agent walked quietly towards him, throwing the bar-tender a small nod as she halted two seats from the blond, resting her elbow on the bar and biting her lip, waiting for her partner to acknowledge her.

"Either Eddie called you or you really are psychic Fern," he murmured softly, the clink of the glass reverberating loudly against the surface of the bar as he put it down, cerulean eyes staring straight ahead.

"Bit early to be drinkin' don't ya think partner?" she chose to reply instead, glancing at the clock before turning her gaze back to Deeks, whose head was now lowered.

"It's happy hour somewhere," he grumbled, staring deeply into the bottom of the glass.

"Yeah but, six-thirty Deeks? I don't think I've ever seen you start so—"

"Yeah well, there's a first time for everything," he interrupted, a downward infliction to his tone. Kensi stilled at his voice, immediately recognizing that there was something off about it, something just not quite right. With a frown, she reached forward and lay her hand gently down on his forearm.

"Come on; let me take you home..."

"Now that is a first," he gave a hollow laugh, swivelling around in the stool to fix her with a hazy look.

"What's a first?" she asked cautiously, not sure if she would like his answer or not.

He gave another humourless chuckle and shrugged.

"A beautiful brunette offering to take me home," he smirked, one eyebrow raised as if daring her to question him.

"Oh I wouldn't say that...Mrs Davis seems to think it's a regular occurrence," she murmured, a hint of censure in her tone.

Deeks' cocked his head to the side, folding his arms.

"And why's that?"

"Apparently one of your trysts tried to lick her face," she rolled her eyes, unable to keep the distain out of her voice.

Deeks snorted as she said this, a soft chuckle shaking his shoulders.

"What?" Kensi asked, a small, apprehensive smile on her face.

"N-Nothing...you were saying something about taking me home?" he not-so-subtly changed the subject before attempting to slide off his stool, only to have his legs buckle underneath him.

Kensi leapt forward and caught him before he could sink to the floor.

"Whoa, easy there partner," she murmured, her voice a little muffled as her mouth was accidently pressed against his shoulder as he leaned into her. With a slow ease, she slung one arm around his shoulder, as his hands flew to her waist to try and steady himself.

"Uh...sorry..." he grumbled, staring down at their dance-like-position confusedly for a moment before releasing her waist abruptly, shame seeping into his tone as it hit him just how much the alcohol had affected him.

"C'mon partner, let's go piss off Mrs. Davis," she wiggled her eyebrows, trying to banish his sudden (and alien) melancholy mood. She could not, would not, let him see how much his current state effected her, flowed dread through her veins, an ache rising in her chest, worry and anxiety clawing at the surface of her skin.

"Sounds like a plan," he replied a little too jovially, a smile, (that to the observer looked the epitome of mischievous) Kensi knew well to be false.

The agent merely ignore these alarming changes in her partner and helped him walk out of the bar (throwing a thankful smile to Ed) and into the dusk of downtown Los Angeles with one mission already settling into her brain...to get Marty Deeks to tell her what was bothering him.

She'd didn't care how long it took.

He'd do the same for her.

* * *

"Deeks...Deeks...DEEKS!" Kensi called, poking him in the shoulder, barely containing a laugh as he startled awake, eyes shooting open and darting around him.

"We're home..." she said gently, before catching herself, "uh, we're at your apartment," she amended, before exiting the car and traipsing around to his side, opening to the door and waiting for him to take his seatbelt off.

Deeks, for his part, merely stared up at her, his eyes slightly unfocused. Kensi frowned as he fumbled around, trying to release the belt, biting his lip in deep concentration. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and leaned over him, unbuckling the seat belt from around his waist and holding out her hand for him to take.

The detective stared at her gesture for a moment, as if the idea of taking her hand was alien to him, before shaking his head and taking it, heaving himself up and out of the seat. Thankfully this time he handled the momentum better than he had in the bar and only marginally swayed on his feet. To be safe, Kensi wrapped one arm around his waist, her hand gripping his hip as they both trudged through the parking lot and into the apartment building. It wasn't until they reached the elevator that they met another soul.

"LAPD's finest hard at work I see," Mrs Davis said snidely, as she stepped into the elevator to stand a little in front of them.

"Mrs. Davis," Deeks smirked as Kensi threw him a warning glare, "always a pleasure..."

She pursued her lips in reply and shook her head disapprovingly.

"We were just talking about you," Deeks continued, chuckling as he felt Kensi's hand tighten on his waist.

"Oh really? Why's that?" she asked, nostrils flaring.

"Oh nothing really," the detective snorted, "we were just wondering what flavour popsicle you prefer..."

As those words reverberated in her ears, something jolted into place with Kensi, as if the last piece of a long abandoned puzzle was out of the blue now complete. Suddenly, a rush of images overwhelmed her senses, morphing into one another like a twisted kaleidoscope, each one more disturbing than the next. Stumbling, laughing, gray hair, lapping tongues, loud music, clumsy limbs, loud voices...it all came flooding back to her.

The agent barely contained her gasp as the older lady fixed them with a glare.

"And what concern is it of yours what flavour popsicle I prefer?"

_Geez, does this woman have an off button?_

"Just healthy curiosity Mrs. Davis," Deeks grinned, offering her a little wave as they all stepped out of the elevator and made their way to their respective apartments.

"Yeah well, you know what they say Marty, curiosity killed the cop," she snipped, before stepping in her door and slamming it behind her.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how that saying goes," Deeks shouted through her door as Kensi elbowed him gently.

"Ow! Kens! Geez...what climbed up her ass and died anyway?" he grumbled loudly before patting himself down, searching for his keys.

"Looking for these?" Kensi asked before she unceremoniously shoved her hand in his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys.

"Whoa, down girl! What happened to the bubble of personal space?"

"That went out the window when you forgot how to use your legs," she informed him, pulling him forward with her as she leant down to unlock the door.

"Come on partner, in we go," she ushered him in gently, an overwhelming sense of déjà vu attacking her brain.

"Let's get you to bed," she continued almost to herself, halting as he snorted.

"No can do partner, I'm a traditional girl, you're gonna have to wine and dine me first."

"Think you got the wine part down, partner," she griped before dragging him over to the couch, "the dine part I can do," she finished, gently easing him down on the couch before straightening up, hands on her hips as she stared down at him.

"Gonna make some Snicker Doodles Kens?" he asked with a mischievous grin, leaning his head on the back on the couch, his eyes mere slits as he fought to keep them open.

For some reason, those words also stirred something in the back of Kensi's mind but she shrugged it off and focused on the task at hand.

"No Snicker Doodles but...how do you feel about grilled cheese?"

The detective remained silent.

"Deeks?" she mumbled softly, leaning forward and staring at him before a small smile spread across her face. Apparently, her partner had fallen asleep, his cerulean eyes now firmly closed, his mouth slightly ajar but, there was just something..._off_ about his expression as he slumbered.

During their time posing as husband and wife, Kensi catalogued a few things about Detective Marty Deeks in her memory bank. One of those things was how he looked while he slept (not that she watched him sleep or anything, of course not) and the entire time they were living together, whenever he was snoozing he would do this cute, little twitchy thing with his nose...just like she told him he did.

The little twitch was absent now, his eyebrows instead furrowed, his eyes darting rapidly behind his eyelids. Kensi bite her lip, watching him intently for a moment before deciding to make him that sandwich, he really had to soak up some of that whiskey...

* * *

"Shit..." she hissed, scraping some of the burnt bits off the bread, hoping that it'd taste okay. Just as she was cutting it half, a loud groan coming from the living room caught her attention.

"No...no! Please..."

"Deeks?" she asked, her heart jumping into her throat as she rushed into the room, plate in hand, her eyes finding her partner worriedly.

"Please...don't..." he was grumbling anxiously in his sleep, thrashing back and forth on the couch, beads of sweat on his forehead, dampening his hair, his face screwed up in pain.

Kensi leapt forward, putting the plate on the coffee table and kneeling in front of her partner, gently shaking his shoulder, calling out to him:

"Deeks! Deeks wake up, you're having a nightmare..."

The detective leapt forward, breathing heavily as he bolted awake, his eyes widened like saucers as he continued to thrash around for a moment.

"Hey, hey, it's me, you're fine, I got you..." Kensi cooed softly, her hand jumping to steady him, her palm resting on his cheek, tilting his jaw to force him to look at her.

"Hey, it's Kensi, look at me..." she gently prodded, her heart panging painfully in her chest as she felt him shiver, swallowing deeply and unable to keep eye contact with her.

Before her brain could catch up, Kensi leaned her body up even further into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him gently. He tensed for a moment before he relaxed against her, his arms lying gently on her back.

They sat like stayed like that for a long moment, the only sound in their room being their mingled breaths. After a minute, hour, day, Deeks pulled back, his eyes still averted, before murmuring gently, "do I smell food?"

Kensi leaned back on her feet, chuckling before reaching behind her and retrieving the plate, offering it to him before climbing up onto the couch to seat beside him.

Deeks tucked into the sandwich quietly, his eyes trained straight ahead as Kensi fought to keep her eyes off him. The desire to talk was bubbling under the surface, clawing at her but before she could open her mouth to question him, he beat her to it:

"Thanks Kens...I uh...really appreciate it," he grumbled, his throat sounding a little dry.

"You want some water?" she asked quietly, patting his arm in silent acknowledgement of his thanks before standing up and beginning to walk towards the kitchen.

"I—I didn't mean to...freak out like that," his voice stopped her in her tracks.

Slowly, she turned on the spot, her dark eyes raking over him.

His entire being screamed defeat...his limbs sagging, his back and neck slouched, his eyes glimmering brightly as they glued to the floor, still avoided her gaze.

"Deeks..." she murmured gently, walking back over and sitting down, her whole body angled toward him, "please tell me...what happened today?"

The blond heaved a sigh, pushing the half-empty plate back onto the coffee table and turning to face her, figuring the least he could do after all she'd done was offer her an explanation, no matter how hard it was for him.

"I—did you hear about what happened down town earlier this morning?" he asked, edging around the subject.

Kensi frowned, casting her mind to the news she half listened to earlier that day before shaking her head.

"Well it...a young boy was uh...he was found in his home...badly beaten..." he trailed off, teasing up again.

Kensi's heart plummeted into her stomach. It suddenly all began to make sense..._oh god_...

"And it's just typical too," her partner continued, a bitter twist to his mouth, "today of all days..."

The agent's head snapped up at that, her eyes raking over his pained face, drinking in his expression, frowning as she saw his eyes shine even more brightly before he swept a hand over them quickly, clearing his throat loudly.

Reaching out, Kensi clasped his hand, squeezing it gently, her heart hammering with worry as she saw her partner try and rein in his emotions.

"What's today Deeks?" she asked softly with an extra squeeze.

The blond's eyes shifted from their intertwined hands to finally meeting her gaze, his eyes clearly watering as he bit his lip, his mind scrambling for an appropriate response.

"Uh...twenty-two years ago on this day, an eleven year old raised a gun and shot his father in the chest..." he trailed off, his stare lowering to the floor again as he continued:

"Twenty-two years ago today, I shot Gordon John Brandel. I woke up this morning, knowing that, accepting that, only to turn on my TV and what do I see? A young boy, blond, blue-eyed and innocent, beaten to near-death by a grown man, a man who should be protecting him, a man who he should look up to..."

Kensi reached out with her other hand and held his hand in both of hers as he took a deep breath.

"So, before I knew it I—I was out the door and down at O'Brian's and on my sixth whiskey on the rocks, all the while the image of this boy burned into my brain, a constant reminder of—" the rest of the sentence died in his throat as it constricted, a strong wave of emotion welling behind his eyes and burning his trachea.

Kensi, for her part, kept a hold on his hand as he struggled through his thoughts, offering silent support if he needed it.

After a moment of collecting himself, Deeks looked back up and was met by the soft warmth of his partner's polychrome eyes and felt his anguish begin to dissolve. There was something about her...about her expression that just calmed him, soothed the ache in his chest, pushed away the bad dreams and the horrific memories. She really was a fantastic partner, a wonderful friend.

Suddenly, he felt as if his previous thanks wasn't enough.

"Kens?" he started, his fuzzy brain fumbling at how to continue.

"Yeah Deeks?" she prompted, her thumb sweeping gently across his knuckles.

The blond bit his lip before taking a deep breath.

"You're my partner, and I love you..."

* * *

Kensi's mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish as Deeks pressed his finger to her lips and shushed her, leaning closer and closer to her.

"Deeks what—" she broke off abruptly as his lips connected with her cheek, dangerously close to her mouth.

For a brief moment, she let her eyes flutter closed, suddenly transported back to cover kisses in houses and hotels, the desire to run her fingers through soft blond tendrils almost unbearable before she caught herself and forced her eyes open.

Deeks leaned back gently, his light orbs finding hers, a soft but sincere smile on his face.

"Seriously Kens I—I really do care about you a lot. Before I met you I had no...you and the team have become a family to me. You're the best and closest friend I've ever had and I love you...and that's not just the alcohol talking. I just...thought that I should tell you that at least once..." he trailed off, a bout of fear seeping into his veins.

Kensi's heart did the rumba in her chest as his words echoed in the silent room. She knew that it actually was undoubtedly the alcohol talking (or at least she convinced herself it was) but that didn't stop the words having a profound effect on her, caused a whole host of feelings to come rushing to the surface, all confusing and oddly crystal clear simultaneously. But this was neither the time nor place for startling realizations (that could wait until she was alone and back home and away from the man that stirred thoughts and emotions in her that she once thought were long gone) no matter how terrifying and jolting they may be.

Pushing down her strong reaction with a bite of her lip, she threw him a soft grin and squeezed his hand again. She was the sober one here, she had to get a grip on the situation or things could happen...things neither of them could take back...

"Ditto," she replied quickly to quell her quick-fire thoughts, trying to sound as normal as possible, quirking of her eyebrow as he chuckled.

"My partner, ever the wordsmith," he teased as she jabbed him gently in the shoulder.

Before she could faux-scold him, Deeks let out a large yawn, pulling his hand away to cover his mouth.

"Looks like someone could do with a nap," Kensi commented before standing up, her hand outstretched for him to take.

Deeks' eyebrows rose, staring at her hand with interest.

"A man could get used to this," he smirked before taking her hand and trying to haul himself up only this time his legs failed him and he pulled on his partner's hand with a sharp tug. Kensi was caught off guard and she stumbled forward.

Both partners let out a silent gasp as Deeks fell back onto the couch, dragging Kensi unceremoniously down on top of him. Frantic, bulging eyes met as noses collided, chests pressed together as thighs straddled waists.

Well, this was...different.

"I—uh..." Kensi frenetically tried to say something, anything as she desperately fought to ignore their awkward position.

_Oh. My. God. I'm straddling him. Get up Blye, get up!_

"Clumsy me," Deeks apologized, his cheeks tinged pink as he stared up at his beautiful partner, her hair sprawled down over her face as her nose hovered an inch from his, her breath bouncing off his lips.

A low tease of excitement heated low in his stomach. He had to put an end to this now, before things got really...uncomfortable...

_Baseball. Dead puppies. Mrs. Davis in a bikini._

"My—my fault," she stuttered, tilting her head back, her face burning with embarrassment as if she knew where his foggy mind was travelling, scrambling up and off him, putting a safe distance between them.

"I—I'm gonna hit the lay—hay!" Deeks half-shouted as he dragged himself off the couch and stood unsteadily in front of her.

"Okay, sure, I—I'll uh, talk to you tomorrow?" his partner asked, her voice an octave too high as she made her way to the front door.

"Sure," he smiled, following her as she stepped out the door and turned to look at him.

"If you need anything..." she let the suggestion hang, her offer loud and clear.

"Thanks partner," he murmured as she offered a small nod and a short wave before making her way down the hallway towards the elevator.

Deeks watched as she threw him one last smile before stepping in the elevator and out of sight.

Slowly, the detective closed the door and rested his forehead against it, thumping gently on it a few times.

_What the hell was that?_

* * *

"Ugh!" Deeks exclaimed as he opened his door to Kensi Marie Blye who cheerily shoved a brown-paper bag in his face.

"And hello to you too Ms. Havisham," she dead-panned, drinking in his rumpled appearance, his bloodshot eyes and dishevelled hair apparently amusing her. She had to stop stealing his jokes...

"How can you be so cheery at—" Deeks paused to check his watch, "early o' clock?"

The agent chuckled as she made her way to the kitchen, taking out plates and cutlery.

"Probably because I didn't drink my weight in whiskey yesterday," she replied, her voice a little timid as she tried to gage his mood.

Despite his obvious hang-over though, he seemed relatively fine.

But 'fine' was not a favourite word of hers.

Deeks unloaded the bag onto the table and grinned as he opened up the container to see freshly made pancakes with golden syrup staring up at him.

"I wasn't sure what the best hangover cure for you is...but pancakes always help me," his partner grinned, clinking her fork with his in a silent toast.

"Good call," he praised before tucking in, thankful that he was never the type to be sick to his stomach when suffering from alcohol exposure.

The two partners ate in comfortable silence before the detective was compelled to break it.

"Thanks...for last night, I—I really appreciate it," he murmured sincerely, looking her straight in the eye.

Kensi smiled, shrugging, "well, you kept an eye on me when I was as high as a kite, figured the least I could do was return the favour when you were drunker than Charlie Sheen."

"Really? I was Charlie Sheen drunk?"

"Drunker."

"Explains the jackhammer in my head."

The brunette laughed heartily as he grimaced.

"Not so loud," he faux-scolded with a roll of his eyes.

A look passed over his partner's face then as she stilled on the chair. He knew she wanted desperately to ask if how he was so he decided to make it easier for her:

"I'm fine...good, Kens, really, it's like the SEALs say, the toughest day is tomorrow."

"The only easy day was yesterday."

"Whatever, you know what I mean. I'm good...or at least, I will be," he finished honestly as she walked around the table, bumping his shoulder with hers.

They both knew that there was a lot to be discussed. Half-kisses and accidental straddling and L words and fearful dreams and hushed, tormented memories and startling realizations (fully acknowledged or not) being at the top of the pile. But that was for another time, another day. Now they needed normal. Or at least, their very own weird version of normal.

"Good," the agent continued, "'cause I got a bone to pick you with you."

"Kinky..."

Kensi poked him in the chest, fixing him with a gentle glare.

"Tell me partner...what the hell is with Mrs. Davis?"

**A/N: So yeah, not fully happy with this but decided to post it before I chickened out. Hope you guys enjoyed it even if I'm not so sure... There will be expansion on this type-of-storyline (Deeks' troubled past etc.) in chapters 22, 23, 24 & 25.**

**Please review =]**

**~Ck**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"**I didn't realize we needed spicing up...you bored with me Deeks?"**

"**What—"**

"'**Cause if you are, you know I can always pair up with Callen and you and Sam can—"**

"**Nope. No. Me, bored with you Kens? Never."**


	21. Noggle

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 21: Noggle**

**A/N: A little fun/teasing/humour is needed before the next four chapters because they're mostly gonna be tough on the angst and hurt/comfort scale (but I will inject some quips wherever/whenever I can). So, enjoy! Hope you guys like it!**

**NOTE: The last scene in this chapter is a direct prequel to the IV part storyline coming up in chapter 22.**

**Disclaimer: NCIS: LA isn't mine. I weep internally. And externally, until I resemble a raccoon. Yeah, it ain't pretty :/**

* * *

**WOTD: NOGGLE; nog****·****gle **_**verb**_**. To walk awkwardly**

"Why do they always run?" Marty Deeks yelled over his shoulder as he and his partner Kensi Blye chased two suspects up a deserted street in down-town Los Angeles.

The brunette shook her head in response and picked up the pace, tackling the thinner of the suspects to the ground, scuffling to subdue him as the detective caught up with the larger man (who was a surprisingly good runner for his robust stature) only to be caught at a dead-end.

Whirling around the bulky guy swung to punch Deeks in the face who swiftly dodged it, clocking him in the jaw. The suspect stumbled back clutching his face with one hand whilst pulling a blade from the waistband of his pants with the other.

"Deeks watch out!" Kensi yelled, punching her convict and tying his hands behind his back before watching in horror as her partner was advanced on by the large man welding a long, sharp knife.

Before she could fire off a shot, the man barrelled into the blond detective, causing both of them to tumble to the ground, Deeks' face squashed into the pavement.

"Oomph!" he exclaimed as the three-hundred-pound con landed on his back, knocking the wind from his lungs. Despite the weight constricting his movement and oxygen intake, the cop wasn't giving in easily and catapulted his skull backwards into the stout man's face, smirking in satisfaction as he roared in pain.

In retaliation, the con lashed out with his knife to any part of the cop he could reach, it tearing through the denim of Deeks' jeans, leaving a bloody trail of crimson in its wake.

"Drop the knife and get up slowly, hands where I can see 'em," Kensi's voice ordered from somewhere above them, digging her gun into the hefty neck of their suspect.

The clatter of the crimson-stained knife hitting the ground was quickly followed by a tremendous weight lifting from Deeks' back, he taking a gratefully deep breath. Ignoring the trickle of liquid running down his leg and grumbling under his breath, he scrambled up, gritting his teeth at the pain before aiming his weapon down into the now bloody face of one pissed off convict.

"Wanna know the moral of this story big guy?" Deeks asked as he leaned over the man who glared up at him.

"Always bring a gun to a knife-fight."

* * *

Kensi grabbed two beers from the fridge and went to make herself comfortable on the couch. After a few moments, her partner stepped out of the bathroom, a grimace shooting across his face as he walked awkwardly towards her, his legs sprawled wide as if he just dismounted a horse.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Deeks exclaimed as he lowered himself gently onto his couch.

Kensi barely suppressed a smirk, forcing herself to swallow a chuckle. As she watched him struggle to get comfortable, she tried (and epically failed) to school her expression into something marginally empathetic.

"How you feelin' partner?" she asked, her voice a little tight as she tried to control the bubble of laughter that threatened to erupt from her.

Her wounded companion looked up from where he was glaring at his coffee table as if it personally offended him.

"Like I got stabbed in the ass," he replied, a trace of irritation lacing his tone.

Kensi bit her lip and had to avert her eyes to the beer in her hand as he shifted on the chair again, a groan of discomfort escaping his lips.

"I thought you said it was lower back?" she smirked, peeling off the bottle's label.

Deeks winced as he tried to rest against the freezing-cold ice-pack.

"Yeah, like really low," he grumbled, his eyes trained on Monty as he padded over to the couch and stared up adoringly at his master, begging for permission to hop up beside him.

Kensi leaned forward and patted the space next to her, grinning as the scruffy mutt leapt up without as much as a questioning glance to his owner, tail wagging incessantly. Deeks' glare bore into her like a red-hot poker from the fiery pits of hell. This time, the brunette just couldn't help the chuckle, her shoulders shaking vigorously.

"Are you laughing at me Kensi Blye?"

"Wouldn't dream of it Marty Deeks," she replied quickly, patting Monty's head and taking another swig of beer.

It was at that moment that the detective dropped the other ice-pack, it landing on his living room floor with a reverberating smack. With a roll of her eyes, the agent jumped up from the couch, bent down and picked it up before handing it to him, her polychrome eyes meeting his.

"Seriously. Only in LA," he muttered, a gleam of annoyance behind his cerulean orbs.

"You'd get stabbed in the ass?" she asked before sitting back down, curling her sock-clad feet underneath her and resting an arm on Monty.

"Yeah," he nodded, looking scandalized, "I mean really, who in their right mind says to themselves, hey, here's a cop, I think I'll take this knife and-

"Shove it up their hiney?" she offered, gesturing at him with her beer.

Deeks scoffed, not believing his ears.

"Did you seriously just say hiney?"

"What's wrong with hiney?"

"Uh last time I checked you weren't a child or a member of Sesame Street."

Kensi stuck her tongue out at him before shifting to stretch her long legs out on his couch, her toes brushing his thigh before settling comfortably on it. Deeks stared at her black-striped socks for a moment before murmuring:

"You know what? I take it back, you are a child. And there was no 'shoving' anything anywhere, thank you very much."

"I'm sure there's a dirty joke in there somewhere," she quick-fired, an eyebrow arched in his direction.

The detective sighed, his head falling onto the back of the couch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately my mind is a little preoccupied at the moment..." he trailed off, the soft murmurings of the television almost lulling him to sleep.

"Something tells me if it was me with the ass wound you'd be firing off zingers by the dozen right now," his partner quipped matter-of-factly, as she opened a bag of chips, popping five in her mouth and munching on them loudly.

"You may have a point there Miss Piggy. Not gonna lie," he smirked, tilting his head and opening his eyes to slits, observing her quietly as she practically inhaled her food in rapid succession.

"Does this mean I have free rein to rip on you, Kermit?" she asked, swallowing deeply, her voice sounding a hell of a lot more innocent than her twinkling, mischievous eyes.

"Oh like you could," he scoffed, remembering with no difficulty the range of his partner's particular brand of humour.

"Hey, I'm witty I'll have you know," she folded her arms stubbornly, poking his leg gently with her toe as if to punctuate her point.

"Anyone who's really witty, doesn't say they're witty," he informed her, a warmth flowing through his chest at how domestic they were being today. He didn't know the reason for it, or for her sheer 'su casa es mi casa' attitude over the last few months especially but it was at times like these when he really appreciated it. Ass injury or not, these small moments were cherished. Not that he'd ever tell her that.

"I'm funny," she faux-snapped, snatching behind Monty's ears.

"Looking maybe," he smirked as she reached forward and smacked him on the shoulder.

"No you are," she grumbled, clearly irritated with herself that she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"That's your great come-back Miss Witty?"

"You're not doin' too great on the comebacks yourself partner."

"I got stabbed in the ass today,_ partner_, how about you give a guy a break huh?"

The two shared a laugh at that, the brunette shaking her hand before draining the last of her beer and standing up. Deeks did his best to hide his disappointment at the loss of her warmth.

"I suppose...you want anything else? Food? Drink? Ass-cushion?" she grinned down at him before trudging into the kitchen.

Deeks gave another groan before calling after her:

"God help me Kens, all of the above would be fantastic. But Kermit? Seriously? He wasn't even in Sesame Street!"

"Neither was Ms. Piggy, Kermy!"

* * *

Her eyebrows rose while he stood staring down at her expectantly as she sat snugly on his couch a few hours later, his thumbs jabbed into the waistband of his sweatpants.

"You're gonna show me your ass?" she asked, trying not to gape openly at him.

"Only if you ask nicely," he teased, throwing her an exaggerated wink.

"Yeah, I'm good thanks," she dismissed, craning her neck to try and watch the TV that he was now effectively blocking.

"Oh come on Kens! I'm just a guy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to check on his ass wound...is that too much to ask?"

She heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes, flashes of cover houses and 'bro-sacks' and awkward bathroom moments in the back of her mind.

"You've wanted me to do this since the Russian sleeper-agent op haven't you?"

"Oh yeah 'cause nothing says romantic like showing someone the bloody scar on your butt," he responded sarcastically, turning on the spot and gently pulling down the waistband, his breath hitching at the pain.

Kensi watched silently, feeling weird, embarrassed and oddly arous—nope, no, that low heat in the pit of her stomach was just discomfort, that was all, nothing more, nothing less.

With a deep concentration that she didn't really need, the agent leaned forward and with the tips of her fingers, peeled back the bandage that rested just where his lower back met his cheek and inspected the jagged, angry wound underneath.

"It's not bad," she murmured, sticking the bandage back to his skin as gently as she could muster, flinching as her nails brushed against his back, lingering that little bit too long, basking in the warmth.

"Why thank you," he replied, his usual mirth engulfed by the sound of awkwardness and if she didn't know better, nervousness.

"I meant the gash," she clarified, sitting back into the couch and avoiding his eyes as he turned around.

"Sure you did," he smirked, it still not seeming genuine as he sat back down beside her, a little further away than before.

"It's gonna leave a scar though."

"Chicks dig scars," he waved dismissively, digging his hand into what was left of the chips Kensi snacked on earlier.

"Not on the ass they don't," she warned, turning her attention back to the TV.

"It's lower back..." he corrected before angling his body towards her, an inquisitive look passing his face, "you got any scars Fern?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"A few," she replied cautiously, wondering where he was going with this.

"Where?"

And there is was. Classic Deeks.

"That's for me to know and for you to ponder for the rest of your life," she winked, relaxing a little more into the couch, her hands clasped together and resting lazily on her stomach.

"Just another of life's mysteries...I'll add it to whatever happened to the Mary Celeste and the real identity of Jack the Ripper," he deadpanned with a shake of his head.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed another slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table.

"What about you? You got any more?"

"A few."

"Any noticeable?"

"Well none shaped like a lightning-bolt and in the middle of my forehead if that's what you're asking."

She practically inhaled pepperoni as she laughed, coughing and spluttering loudly.

"Whoa Kens, easy, don't want a repeat performance like your wine incident," he chuckled, sitting forward and ignoring the twinge of pain to thump his partner on the back as she spat the chunk of pizza back onto the plate.

"That was attractive," he smirked as she glared at him, trying to quell the heat that rose in her cheeks as she made another food-related blunder in her partner's presence.

"You're the one that made me laugh!" she scolded, wiping at her eyes that had welled up during her coughing fit.

"Well someone had to spice up the evening, thanks for the entertainment," he replied, watching in amusement as her face turned from a shade of red to a more purple hue.

"I didn't realize we needed spicing up...you bored with me Deeks?" she asked, a hint of _something_ behind her tone.

"What—"

"'Cause if you are, you know I can always pair up with Callen and you and Sam can—"

"Nope. No. Me, bored with you Kens? Never."

And he meant it too. More than anything in the world. Never, would he ever, be bored with Kensi Marie Blye in his life. Something he was eternally grateful for every single day. Again, not that he'd ever tell her.

"That's what I thought. Well," she said suddenly, glancing at her watch, "it's gettin' kinda late...I better head home."

And there was the familiar sinking of Deeks' heart in his chest. It was the exactly same every time she came over – the last being when she'd brought him home after he'd gotten a little drunk at O'Brian's (not that he remembered much of that particular night, despite it being mere days ago), and wasn't likely to change any time soon.

With an inaudible sigh, the detective stood up and hobbled awkwardly with his weird walk over to the door, holding it open for his partner as she pulled on her jacket.

"Call me if you need anything," she was saying as he watched her flick her hair out from under her collar, his light eyes captivated at the movement.

"Huh? Yeah, okay," he murmured distractedly.

"Swear."

"Shit."

"I meant promise!" she scolded, an amused grin on her face.

Deeks returned her grin tenfold.

"Yeah I promise, swear, whatever."

"On a Pope," she pressed as she stepped out into the hallway.

The detective screwed up his face in thought before coming up empty.

"I don't know any Popes."

Kensi folds her arms, her eyebrows raised.

"Alright fine, I promise on Pope John, Paul, George and Ringo. Happy?" he mirrored her stance, arms folded, eyebrows raised.

"That was another Beatles reference wasn't it?"

"Yes Miss-I-only-listen-to-crappy-techno. Here's one thing I will swear to, broadening your musical horizons."

The two friends stared at one another for a moment before a soft, mystifying smile broke out on Kensi's face.

"I look forward to that," she half-whispered, her face for once a mystery to him, a riddle wrapped in enigma.

For some unfathomable reason, those five words seemed to say so much more than they appeared.

"Me too," he replied, his words too feeling like a series of life-altering novels.

With one last grin, Kensi gave a small wave and headed to the elevator like she did every night after being in Deeks' apartment, her partner's eyes glued to her the entire way, both blissfully unaware of the heartache they were both soon to endure...

* * *

Meanwhile, at a Los Angeles Police Department in Interrogation Room B, a tall, dark-haired man with green eyes sat, staring intently at the shiny surface of a table separating him from two very frustrated and weary detectives.

"I'll tell you again, White, seeing as you're finding this so hard to understand," Detective Harris was spitting, his jaw clenched, "we don't cut deals with child beaters."

"But you gotta hear me out okay? I—I know all about where this guy buried her, I shared a cell with him for six months back in the 90s. I was just a kid back then but I can remember everything he bragged about to try and scare me, he was a nasty piece of work—"

"That's rich, coming from you," the other detective, Kinney, interjected.

White kept going however, almost as if he didn't realize that he'd spoken.

"And he went into detail so if you would just let me—"

"So what's the name of this so-called man that got away with beating a young woman to death huh?" Harris interrupted, fixing White with a glare.

Finally White looked up, his green eyes staring dead into the detective's before opening his mouth and replying:

"Gordon John Brandel..."

**A/N: DUN, DUN, DUN! **

**Yeah, I know this was a weird one but...like a few of my scenes throughout the series, the dialogue/situations are actually inspired by some pieces of work I wrote myself a few years ago (using my own original characters) and some of them seem to suit Deeks and Kensi so well so I couldn't help but write a NCIS: LA story around them =] **

**Oh and sorry if it was a little dialogue-heavy, I just love the banter too much! :D**

**Next up is the IV part 'Deeks, M' storyline. I'm mentally psyching myself up for it now, it's gonna be HUGE! Because of said hugeness, I'm gonna need a little longer to plot everything out but I'll try to update as quickly and efficiently as I can. :D**

**Please Review =]**

**~Ck**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"**Deeks," the detective murmured as he answered his phone, rolling his eyes at his partner. **

"**Uh, Marty? It's Logan Banks—"**

"**Whoa Logan, long time no speak, how the hell are ya? Wait, how'd you get this number?" the detective asked, an overwhelming feeling of dread seeping into his veins, his senses going into overdrive as his partner visibly stilled, listening intently, trying to hear the other side of the conversation.**

"**I got it off your boss Marty...listen, I really need to talk to you about something..." he trailed off. The knot of tension in Deeks' stomach tightened.**

"**About what?" he asked attentively, his eyes darting to Kensi's worriedly.**

"**It's—a cold case has landed in my lap, man. And...an old name has come up of someone you know."**

"**Who?"**

"**Your father."**


	22. Gorgonize AKA 'Deeks, M' Part I

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 22: Gorgonize AKA 'Deeks, M' Part I**

**A/N: Strap yourselves in guys...it's gonna be a bumpy ride – and not in the fun way :/**

**This entire 'Deeks, M' IV parter is dedicated to **_**SuperDensi427**_** for being awesome and offering such invaluable advice :D Thank you!**

**SHOUT-OUT to RHODANOS ****for your continued support! You rock! I'm so sorry I can't reply to you directly! But I just want to let you know that I appreciate your kinds words and as for Kensi and Mrs. Davis, I mentioned that Kensi tried to lick her face when she was high on LSD back in chapter 9 but I promise I'll go into more detail eventually, I can say that Deeks will eventually come clean about everything that happened that night ;) Thanks again!**

**Oh and CONGRATULATIONS to Eric Christian Olsen on his marriage to Sarah Wright! :D**

**WARNING: DARK THEMES AHEAD!**

**Okay, this A/N is far too long...sorry...enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Neither NCIS: LA nor sad!Deeks is mine. I don't think I could cope if they were...I'm stressed just writing fanfiction lol. **

* * *

**WOTD: GORGONIZE; gor****·****gon****·****ize - To have a paralyzing or mesmerizing effect on**:** stupefy or petrify**

"Ugh, I thought that was never gonna end..." Kensi groaned as she and Deeks settled themselves at a small, circular table, both nursing coffees and tension headaches.

"Me too, political pissing matches aren't my kinda thing," the detective agreed, taking a sip of his beverage before grimacing, adding more sugar.

"Then you're in the right career, _liaison_," Kensi smirked, eyebrows raised, bringing her cup to her lips and sighing with satisfaction, her eyes falling closed, a soft hum omitting from her lips.

"I'll have what you're having," Deeks teased while inwardly gaping at the expression on his partner's face – it was one of pure..._bliss_. It looked good on her. Really good. Like enough to cause much more inappropriate images of the horizontal nature to float into his brain without his permission kinda good.

"First _Notting Hill_ now _When Harry Met Sally_?" she interrupted his little clandestine fantasy, her polychrome eyes making an appearance as she lifted her heavy lids, "geez Deeks, do you spend all your down time watching chick flicks or do you squeeze in mani-pedis and Pilates too?"

"Actually I'm more of Yoga kinda guy but seeing as you knew what I was referencing means you've watched them too Blye so don't judge...besides, what can I say? That scene always stuck with me for some reason," he smirked, his eyes looking past her and landing on a couple in the distance.

"What?" Kensi asked as her partner's attention was caught.

"Hugh Hefner wannabe, your four-o'clock," he murmured under his breath as Kensi tilted back in her chair a little and stealthily cast her eyes to the couple ordering their coffee.

Hugh Hefner indeed, all he was short of was the silk robe. The man was definitely pushing seventy, wearing the odd combination of flip-flops and expensive suit only an LA native could pull off (although its success was debatable), while his companion didn't look old enough to rent a car, hanging off his arm in tight shorts and a tank top, peroxide-blonde mop flung over her shoulder.

Kensi shrugged, swallowing her grimace, "so they're a little...May-December."

"More like January-December," Deeks quipped as Kensi chuckled, her eyebrows rising as the shrill sound of her partner's cell-phone began to drift from his pocket.

"Deeks," the detective murmured as he answered his phone.

"Uh, Marty? It's Logan Banks..." the blond's mouth dropped open as the familiar voice (that he hadn't heard in a decade and didn't particularly want to ever hear again) wafted from the other end. Kensi threw him a puzzled glance as he cleared his throat and responded:

"Whoa Logan, long time no speak, how the hell are ya? Wait, how'd you get this number?" the detective asked suddenly, trying to muster some semblance of civility for the man he detested every day of law school, an overwhelming feeling of dread seeping into his veins, his senses going into overdrive as his partner visibly stilled, listening intently, trying to hear the other side of the conversation.

"I got it off your boss Marty...listen, I really need to talk to you about something..." he trailed off. The knot of tension in Deeks' stomach tightened.

"About what?" he asked attentively, his eyes darting to Kensi's worriedly.

"It's—a cold case has landed in my lap, man. And...an old name has come up of someone you know."

"Who?"

"Your father."

The world tipped on its axis. Down was up, up was down and Deeks was somewhere in between. This was not..._could not_ be happening...

The detective's heart hammered in his chest as he froze instantly at those two words. Swallowing deeply, he tried to school his features into something more neutral, averting his partner's inquisitive eyes. Shifting uncomfortably on the chair, his fingers absentmindedly tapped jumpily on his coffee cup as he fought to formulate words.

"Uh—where will I meet you?"

The repositioning of Kensi's hands and tightening of her shoulders let him know that she was on-edge, had clocked his body-language and knew without a shadow of a doubt that something was very wrong. Great. So much for stealth and misdirection being his forte, he could never get anything past Bad-Ass-Blye.

"Uh huh," he acknowledged, switching his phone to his other hand as he scribbled the location on the back of a napkin.

"Okay, I'll be there A-SAP," he hung up, lowering his phone slowly, his eyes trained on the napkin that he was now folding up and putting in his jacket pocket.

He could feel her enquiring dark orbs boring into him but couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze.

"I—uh...something came up Kens, can you—can you tell Hetty I'm taking the rest of the day off?" he rambled, already up on his feet before his partner could open her mouth.

"Deeks who—"

"I gotta go Kens I'll...I'll talk to you later," he murmured distractedly, throwing down a few dollars of a tip on the table.

But Kensi wasn't letting him off that easy.

"Hold up!" she raced through the door after him as he practically galloped out into the mid-day sun.

"Kensi—" he was cut off as her hand landed on his shoulder and whirled him around to face her.

"What's going on Deeks? Talk to me..." she trailed off, strong concern lacing her tone.

The detective paused, finding the courage to look her in the eye.

"It—it could be nothing but...I'll call you when I know more."

"You'll call me?" she repeated, a brief flash of disbelief crossing her face.

"I'll call you," he nodded before turning back around and jogging out of the parking lot, heading home to get his car.

Kensi watched his retreating back, a sense of unease settling into stomach.

She didn't like this.

Not one bit.

* * *

The drive to the Los Angeles County State Prison was a quiet one. Usually, when in the car (alone or sometimes with Kensi just to annoy her) Deeks would sing along at the top of his lungs to whatever crap was on the radio. Today however, the radio remained firmly off, the detective's full concentration being on getting safely to his destination without breaking any traffic laws, despite his body screaming in protest, aching to glue his foot to the accelerator and speed like a NASCAR racer.

Pulling up outside the gates, Deeks flashed his badge at the guard and parked, slamming his door shut and walking briskly into the entrance, badge properly displayed to each passerby. After being thoroughly searched and weapon inspected, he was directed over to an office where he was met with three familiar faces, two he saw on a regular basis and one he hadn't seen in over ten years.

"Marty Deeks," a slightly shorter, dark haired, brown-eyed man said as he walked towards the liaison, hand outstretched.

"Logan Banks," Deeks replied monotonously, shaking his hand with a firm grip.

"I take it you already know Detectives Harris and Kinney," Banks continued, ushering to the other cops.

"Uh yeah we're...colleagues," Deeks confirmed, levelling a nod at his co-workers who looked as if they were none-too-impressed at his presence, to put it lightly.

"Banks here tells us something White said loosely connects to you? Anything you wanna share, Deeks? You know, seeing as this is our case and we have absolutely no need for a_ liaison_ and are only allowing this because of courtesy..." Harris trailed off, an edge to his tone.

"And that's a courtesy I appreciate, thank you," Deeks replied sincerely, shifting a little from foot to foot, trying to quell his impatience.

"Five minutes Deeks, then we wanna know what the hell's going on," Kinney chimed in, a narrowing to his eyes.

The liaison nodded once more and made his way into the adjacent room, head held high, eyes unblinking as he drank in the form of the man whose face had been plastered across every television screen in Los Angeles for the last two weeks.

"Mr. White, I'm Detective Marty Deeks...I hear you have some interesting information about an old cell-mate of yours, Gordon John Brandel..."

* * *

Mismatched eyes stared blankly down at the desk as the pencil rolled back and forth, back and forth, back and—

"Kens seriously, knock it off already!" Callen exclaimed looking sideways at her, a bemused smirk on his face.

"Yeah no need to worry Kensi...Deeks will be here soon," Sam grinned, exchanging a teasing glance with his partner from over the top of his newspaper.

The female agent split her withering glare between the two of them before heaving an inaudible sigh and turning her head towards the door for what must have been the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. It had been just over three hours since Deeks left the coffee shop in a hurry with little-to-no explanation. What really set her nerves on edge though was when she came back to OSP and informed Hetty of his departure only to receive nothing but a knowing nod and a pensive pursing of lips. Hetty knew something, and she wasn't telling. Those facts were never a good combination.

"Where is Surfer Boy anyway? Didn't you guys just go for coffee?" Sam asked, "or is this just another one of his 'tactics' to get outta doin' paperwork?"

Kensi merely shrugged, neither wishing to outright to lie to her colleagues nor admit that she wasn't 100% sure of her partner's location.

"Although Mr. Deeks penchant for fabricating reasons to forgo his paperwork is impressive, I'm afraid that the reason for his absence is far more serious than that," Hetty murmured as she walked over to them, halting between the two tables.

"What's going on, Hetty? Is Deeks okay?" Callen asked, as Kensi struggled to find her voice.

The petite brunette turned her attention to Callen before her gaze soon found Kensi's, staring into her dark orbs intently.

"Mr. Deeks is fine Mr. Callen, no need for concern," she replied cryptically, "I'm sure he'll be pleased to know that his team care so much for his well-being," she smirked as she turned to Sam who could barely repress and eye-roll.

With that, Hetty nodded and began her trek back to her office, only to have one tall, brunette agent trot along behind her.

"Did you hear from him?" Kensi asked, trying to keep the impatience out of her tone as Hetty walked around her desk and sat down.

"I did," she confirmed, her level voice not conveying a thing.

Kensi stared at her, eyebrows furrowed as she failed to elaborate. So that was how she was gonna play it. Alright then, she'd bite.

"And did he say where he was?"

"He did."

The agent's jaw clenched. She loved Hetty, she did, but sometimes this was just—

"I take it by the tightening in your mandible that you're dissatisfied with my response," she stated rather than questioned, entwining her fingers and resting them on her desk, her hawk-like-orbs raking over Kensi's face.

"He's my partner Hetty I—I just wanna know if...what's going on. I don't like—"

"Being left out of the loop, yes Ms. Blye, I know. And I'm sure Mr. Deeks knows too, which is why I will let him tell you the circumstances when he so wishes."

Well that was a dismissal if she ever heard one. With a curt nod, she stood up, shoulders back, head held high before turning on her heel and making her way back to her desk only to stop dead in her tracks as Hetty continued:

"A word of advice Ms. Blye, when Mr. Deeks does tell you what's going on, and he will, he's going to need his partner every step of the way. Are you prepared for that?"

Kensi whirled back around and caught her eye, worry in her eyes that were also shrouded with determination.

"Always."

* * *

Deeks scowled as he paced back and forth, trying not to stare through the small, square glass on the door. It had been over two hours since he arrived at the prison and he was eagerly waiting for his second round at Marcus White. Turns out, when Harris and Kinney said five minutes, they definitely meant five minutes. But that was hardly enough time to ask White what he had for breakfast never mind if he had any solid proof that Gordon John Brandel was responsible for a 22-year-old murder.

"You're not gonna see him again today Deeks," Logan Banks announced as he made his way out of the room and into the corridor.

"Are you kidding me, Banks? All I could get outta him in five minutes was that he knew of a murder that may or may not have been committed by Brandel in a place that may or may not exist anymore at a time that he thinks was around 1990. That's hardly solid evidence," Deeks practically growled as he halted in front of his old class-mate.

"He did give us the burial site, the coroner is inspecting the body as we speak," Banks argued, his chin stuck out stubbornly.

"Yeah but that doesn't necessarily mean she was killed there. So to recap, we only have the word of an ex-con who beats up his kids that a murder was committed by another ex-con who..." Deeks trailed off for a moment, swallowing deeply before continuing, "there was one thing that he was solid on though...the name of his lawyer," he glared, folding his arms across his chest.

"Deeks—"

"You're representing that scum-bag?"

"Well someone has—"

"He beat a ten year old boy to near death!" Several eyes jumped to the detective and the lawyer as Deeks' voice rose higher than he meant it to. With a glance to Banks, he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

"You know as well as I counsellor, that everyone is innocent until proven guilty...or have you forgotten that since joining the LAPD?"

"And you know as well as I that it's Detective, not counsellor," Deeks growled, "and this guy is guilty Banks, even you can see that," he spat, all the hatred and pent up anger that he'd been holding in for this guy for years flowing freely through his veins, clawing at his insides.

Banks took a step forward, arms folded, mirroring the blond's stance, tilting his head a little to glare Deeks right in the eye.

"Do you really believe that or is this clouding your judgement due to your own..._experiences_?"

Deeks took another step forward until he was barely four inches from him and stared straight down into Banks' face, nostrils flaring.

"I'm a professional, my judgement isn't clouded by anything, you understand me Banks?"

There was a beat of silence as the shorter man locked into a staring match, his dark eyes flickering as they fought not to blink. With a sigh, he looked away, blinking rapidly before meeting the liaison's gaze once more.

"Well, as long as the smart and talented Marty Deeks says so...but remember this, I called you out of courtesy, despite everything that went down between us, something I'm starting to regret now. You don't have to like it, but my client says your father killed a girl and he's gonna cut a deal for the alleged assault on Bobby Woods in exchange for his cooperation regardless of the outcome of the cold-case so just deal with it," he finished, taking a step back and walking back into the office without a backwards glance.

Deeks stared at his retreating back, swallowing deeply and rubbing his chin before his phone began to vibrate. With a slightly sheepish smirk he dug his hand into his jeans pocket, expecting it be another call from his partner. With raised eyebrows he glanced down at the caller I.D and pressed the 'accept' button.

"To what do I owe the pleasure Dr. Swartz?"

* * *

"Female, approximately 17 years old, level of decomposition suggests she died over twenty years ago..." Rose Swartz trailed off as Deeks leaned down, his eyes narrowing as he inspected the remains, a grimace on his face.

"Everything okay, Detective?" she asked gently as she watched him start and straightened up quickly, his eyes darting from her and back to the decomposed body on the slab. When she'd gotten the call from Henrietta Lange urging her to let Deeks sit in on her examination she had obeyed without a second's thought, still, she found it an odd request considering he wasn't the detective in charge of the case. Frowning, she looked a little closer and saw dark circles beginning to form under his eyes.

"Yeah I'm fine—uh was there any personal affects found with the body?" he inquired, appearing a little distracted, not meeting her eyes.

"Yes, they're just over there," Rose pointed to a small, rectangular tray behind him before turning back to her examination.

Deeks took a deep breath through his mouth before making his way over the little table, a knot of dread weighted in his chest. Ever since he'd gotten that call from Banks, it continued to grow and grow and now must be at least the size of a football. There was just _something_, a niggling thought in the back of his mind that just wouldn't leave him alone and now that he laid eyes on what was left of some poor, teenage girl that feeling only grew stronger.

As his cerulean eyes fell onto the few items that were found on the body, his heart jolted in his chest, his breath hitched and his mouth dropped open.

_It can't be..._

"Doc...is there any evidence of the girl having broken her left wrist?" he asked suddenly, trying desperately to quell his rapidly-firing thoughts as they fought their way to the surface of his brain.

There was a short silence as Rose consulted her notes. After a beat, she turned to look at him inquisitively as he made his way back over to her, a sliver of a worn photograph clutched in his hands.

"Yeah there is...how did you know that, Detective?"

Deeks cast one last look to the grimy skeleton with insect-eaten clothes before glancing down at the picture in his hands with a heavy heart and a sigh on his lips.

"Because I knew her..."

* * *

It was past nine-thirty when the dilapidated detective plonked down on his couch, beer in hand, frown on his face. He felt beyond exhausted, his bones aching, his muscles tense. Rolling his neck, he grimaced as he heard it creak in protest before he heaved a sigh, draining the last of his beer and lying down, his eyes staring straight up, dazed and unfocused, almost as if he were in a trance.

It had been one hell of a day, enlightening in the worst sense. Just when he thought he had found his footing, had finally put his demons to rest, something like this happened to drag them back kicking and screaming to the forefront of his mind, pulling down his heart into the dark depths of his soul.

But that's what Gordon John Brandel did. Dead or alive the man always found a way to negatively affect Marty's life, to put his personal stamp of disapproval all over every aspect of his being, of his existence.

And now...now there was this girl, a girl that Deeks hadn't seen or thought about for a lifetime, her remains darkening the morgue's gleaming slab, her essence long gone...possibly at the hands of a man that tormented the detective for over a decade.

So yeah, today had not been a good day. Tomorrow would be no better.

Before the liaison could properly dwell on that depressing thought, a sharp knock echoed through his apartment. Sitting up, he chanced a glance at the door, almost expecting it to burst open, the person behind it storming in with a finesse that the best comic book villains could only dream of. But instead, the knocking just continued, each getting louder and more persistent with every passing second.

Deciding it was best to not prolong the inevitable, Deeks stood up, plodded over to the door and flung it open, not bothering to check the peephole as by now it was painfully obvious who stood there.

"You didn't call me," were her first words as she pushed past him into his apartment, already turning on her heel, her arms folded, her eyes boring into him.

"I'm—"

"In fact,_ I_ called _you_. Eight times," she practically growled, anger and dare he believe it, _concern_ lacing her tone.

"Where the hell did you disappear to huh? I mean, I know Hetty knew where you were but why are you keeping me in the dark Deeks? I mean I thought we were partners, you could have told me about—"

"Oh yeah 'cause you were _so_ forthcoming with me when you went on your little revenge spree—" Deeks' words stuck in his throat as he saw the brief flash of hurt ensnare Kensi's eyes before it was quickly smothered by irritation.

He dragged a palm down his face wearily, feeling like a complete and utter ass. No matter how crappy he felt, he shouldn't take it out on her.

"Kensi I'm sorry I didn't mean that, it was uncalled for," he apologized sincerely, edging a little closer.

She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, walking backwards until her legs hit the edge of the couch and sat down, her polychrome eyes never faltering from him. Deeks was oddly reminded of Hetty.

"What's going on Deeks?" she asked, her voice neither demanding nor soft, just inquisitive and maybe a little worried.

"Can't we do this later Kens...I'm kinda tired..." he tried to brush off the question with a wave of his hand.

Her eyebrow arched. She was having none of that.

"Seriously? After everything, you're gonna shut me out?" she couldn't keep the hurt from her tone as she dwelled on the possibility that this was something that her partner didn't trust her with.

Granted, she was guilty herself for not giving full disclosure to her partner and yeah, she knew that they both that their numerous issues that weren't always discussed but this...her partner deliberately hiding something from her caused a knot of unease to form in her stomach and a painful pang in her heart.

Deeks finally looked up to her face and must have caught something there that caused him discomfort and alarm because suddenly words were tumbling from his mouth like a rush of water:

"An old classmate from Law School contacted me today...a guy I thought I'd never hear from again..." crossing the room to sit down beside her, a large space between them.

"Why not?" she asked gently.

"Well, let's just say he isn't my biggest fan. Banks and I, we were kinda up and coming hot-shots back when we were in school. We had this big plan to start our own firm one day until you know..." he trailed off, waving his hand with a frown.

"And what happened?" she asked, intrigued by a part of Deeks' life that he almost never discussed.

"Oh you know...creative differences and I...I always wanted to be a cop anyway and so one day I just said 'to hell with it' and went for it."

Kensi felt compelled to ask the burning question that had always been in the back of her mind.

"What prompted you to make that career choice?"

Deeks cleared his throat, shifting a little on the couch.

"Well, Detective Deeks sounded much better than Counsellor Deeks...alliteration and all..."

Kensi rolled her eyes at his obviously insincere reply.

"And what did he want?" she asked, leaning a little forward to try and catch his eye again.

"Well," he started timidly, "he said that there was a prisoner in custody with some interesting news on a cold-case," he trailed off, his heart thumping in his chest.

Kensi turned her head to meet his eyes, silently urging him to continue. Deeks fought to hold her gaze.

"You remember that case a few weeks ago, the little boy who was beaten up by his step-father?"

His partner nodded, the unease settling deeply into her veins.

"Well..." he hesitated, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, "the prisoner was that step-father, Marcus White."

There was a beat of silence as Kensi digested those words.

"And..." she began quietly, "what did White want with you?"

Deeks was staring intently at his clasped hands now, his head lowered. With a deep breath, he summoned the strength and replied:

"He uh...the cold-case he had information on was a seventeen year old girl that according to him, was murdered 22 years ago."

Kensi nodded, feeling as if they were on the brick of something huge.

"And how did he get this information?"

Slowly, Deeks angled his body towards her, lifting his head, his unfocused eyes anchoring themselves in her dark depths.

"Apparently his ex-cell-mate told him about it to try and scare him..." he bit his lip, no longer able to look her in the eyes.

"Who was his cell-mate?" she asked, not believing the amount of prodding she had to do to get her usually chatty partner to talk.

With a defeated sigh, his mind trying not to dwell on the events of the day, he took the plunge and said the three words that always caused a pit of unease to flow through his entire body.

"Gordon John Brandel."

Kensi's mouth dropped open, not believing her ears.

An overwhelming sense of compassion ensnared her, empathy for her partner being the strongest emotion she'd felt all day. She could only imagine what he was going through, what torture he was enduring over the last few hours.

Reaching out, she covered one of his hands with hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"What am I gonna do?" he asked, his voice sounding childlike and quiet. Her heart gave another painful lurch.

"We'll figure it out," she murmured, her thumb brushing across his knuckles as his eyes found hers, "we always do."

**A/N: Yeah, I was wrong...again...this 'Deeks, M' series is and will continue to be the HARDEST EVER to write :/ but hopefully it'll all be worth the effort in the end :D**

**NOTE: Just want to remind the readers that I know next-to-nothing about the Prisons etc. in Los Angeles and everything referenced is just researched through good ol' Google :D Feel free to correct me on anything if I got anything wrong :D**

**I would love to hear what you guys think :D Reviews are little slivers of happiness :D**

**~Ck**

_**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**_

"_**Marty, he was always a sweetheart...the kindest guy in the world," she smiled; her dark eyes alight with wonder.**_

"_**He still is..." Kensi agreed, a soft smile on her face.**_

"_**So are you guys..." she trailed off, her suggestion hanging for the entire universe to see.**_

"_**Me and Deeks? No, I—no...what gave you that idea?" Kensi gaped.**_


	23. Labascate AKA 'Deeks, M' Part II

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 23: Labascate AKA 'Deeks, M' Part II**

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone for your continuous reviews, alerts, favourites etc. it really is amazing and I can't describe how grateful I feel for it :D**

**Again, a big thanks to **_**SuperDensi427**_** for all the wonderful help and advice :)**

**Phew! This was INCREDIBLY HARD to write, so many things going on lol. But I hope you guys enjoy it anyway ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: LA. The names 'Andi' and 'Bizzaro-Kensi' came from **_**SuperDensi427**_** :D **

* * *

**WOTD: LABASCATE; lab****·****as****·****cate **_**verb**_**. To begin to fall**

The evening's setting sun shone down onto the tanned arm of one Kensi Marie Blye as she draped it out the car window. Heaving a sigh, she glanced to her watch and frowned. She'd been sitting here for over forty minutes now, radio silent, no coms. Not being particularly the most patient at the best of times, she now felt the itch of ticking time, achingly slow, crawling deep under her skin as she fidgeted, shifting in her seat and fiddling with the air conditioning. It was hot out today, the sun's rays relentless, beaming down onto the car and baking it from the inside out.

Tiny droplets of sweat collected on her forehead, dampening her chestnut hair. With a shake of her head, she drummed her fingernails on the dashboard, biting her lip as her dark eyes cast over to the closed front door across the street.

She couldn't tell if it'd been too long, not long enough, or an acceptable amount, but before she could dwell on whether or not she could be concerned, the red-painted front door opened, two figures stepping out and walking towards her. Kensi frowned as she drank in the distant stature of a woman with Deeks, gauging her height and build as similar to her own, brown hair sitting on her shoulders, fluttering in the breeze as she took long strides beside her partner.

Curiosity getting the better of her, the agent fumbled for the door handle and stepped out onto the sidewalk, straightening up and leaning back against the car, rubbing the back of her neck as they drew closer and closer to her.

Her gaze narrowed slightly as she squinted, her irises planted firmly on the subtle brushing of hands of her partner and his old friend as they halted a few feet from her. Her mouth dropped open as she got her first clear look at the woman that the liaison had been talking to for the last forty minutes. While it wasn't quite like looking in a mirror, the resemblance was unnerving.

The woman's eyebrows rose, her eyes darting from Kensi to Deeks and back again. The detective shifted his weight from foot to foot, gaze flittering between the two women before murmuring:

"Uh Kensi Blye, this is Andrea Benson, an old friend of mine. Andi, this is my partner, Kensi Blye..."

Kensi's eyes grew even wider and unblinking as the woman's orbs raked over her, they both silently staring at the other as Deeks stood in between them, looking a little amused and somewhat nervous. The two simultaneously reached out to shake the other's hand and gripped firmly for a moment before letting their hands drop.

"It's nice to meet you," the brown-haired beauty said to the agent, a glimmer in her hazel orbs as she again glanced from her to Deeks and back again, apparently just as dumbstruck as Kensi at the overwhelming similarity in their physical appearances.

"You too," she replied, before turning and arching an eyebrow at her partner.

Deeks shoved his hands in his pockets, looking a little sheepish as Andi's walked further towards the car.

"Whoa, Ray was right..." Kensi continued, murmuring under her breath, leaning into Deeks a little as Andi climbed into the back seat, but not before squeezing the detective's shoulder, a soft smile on her face.

"About what?" he mumbled bemusedly out of the side of his mouth, his eyes never leaving his old friend as he shut the door behind her.

"Uh nothing...so, _that's_ the girl that looks like me huh?" Kensi asked evenly, levelling him with a stare from the corner of her eye as he began to walk around to the driver's side.

Deeks shook his head, a small grin spreading across his face, something she hadn't seen in a number of days.

"Oh no Kens...that's the girl that _you_ look like."

* * *

_9 Hours Earlier..._

He couldn't contain a wince as his foot scuffed on the floor.

"I may not have eyes on the back of my head, but my hearing is impeccable," Nell called over her shoulder as she tapped on her tablet, her eyes focused on the large screen in front of her.

Attentively, the footsteps grew louder and closer to her.

"You know, for an undercover cop, you kinda suck at being sneaky," she quipped, still not turning around.

"Yeah well, I never took the 'Kensi Blye Advanced Ninja Sneaking Training Course,'" the voice of Detective Marty Deeks sounded from behind her.

"Shame, you might have learned a thing or two..." she turned to look at him, "what's up Deeks?" she asked quietly, her eyes drinking in his rumpled appearance. It's true that the detective was always a little on the scruffy-side but today was different, he didn't look...rested. There were dark circles under his slightly blood-shot eyes, an even heavier beard than usual marring his face and, if she wasn't mistaken, the same shirt he had worn yesterday – unheard of from the man who apparently won the hygiene award in high school.

"I need you to find someone," he responded cryptically, his voice oddly monotonous.

"Who?" she asked with a furrow of her brow.

"An old friend of mine. Her name's Andrea Danielle Benson," he murmured hurriedly, his eyes darting to the door of ops and back to Nell, not quite meeting her gaze.

This whole situation was getting weirder by the second. Deeks was acting incredibly strange, even more so than usual and was clearly trying to keep something from the rest of the team. Eric had literally just left ops and Deeks appeared not a minute later, as if to try and catch Nell by herself. What the hell was going on?

"Sure uh...is this for a case?" her voice portrayed a little of her suspicion.

"Uh, not really. Think of it as a favour."

Okay, now Nell knew something was up.

"A favour," she stated rather than questioned, trying and failing to catch Deeks' eyes.

"Yeah, you know, I'll owe you one," he shrugged, his gaze fixed on a spot somewhere above her head.

"You don't really have anything I want Deeks..." she tried to joke, anything to ease the foreign sense of tension that was engulfing the room.

"Please Nell?" his tone stopped her dead in her tracks. Never had she ever heard him sound so...desperate, so much was conveyed in those two words that the startled tech-analyst had to take a moment to find her voice.

"Uh yeah, sure Deeks..." she trailed off, bending her head a little to try and catch his eyes that were now lowered to the floor.

"I'll need her contact details ASAP so uh...can you call me when you get them?" he looked up suddenly, his usually bright eyes now dull and lifeless. Nell swallowed deeply, words dying in her throat as worry began to seep into her veins. This Marty Deeks, the one void of upbeat chatter and quirky quips was unnerving her.

Managing a nod, she threw him a twist of her lips that barely constituted a grimace never mind a smile as he walked out backwards, a short wave of his hand before he turned on his heel and stormed briskly out.

"Well, that was weird..." Nell murmured under her breath as Eric entered Ops, a confused frown on his face.

"What's with Deeks?" he asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

The tech analyst shrugged her shoulders and went to sit down on her chair. Now was not the time to hypothesize.

She had a woman to find.

* * *

Kensi looked up from her desk as she saw her partner approach. Her stomach lurched as she drank in his appearance. He didn't look like himself today, definitely didn't act like himself and sure as hell didn't sound like himself – he barely spoke a word in the last two hours in fact, certainly unheard of for motor-mouth-Marty. The agent was worried to say the least.

It had been just over seventeen hours since their discussion in his apartment, his confession that his father was implicated in an old case of a missing girl and really, Kensi couldn't stand the waiting, no, it was worse than that, she couldn't bear watching Deeks waiting. Especially considering she wasn't entirely sure what it was he was waiting for. As far as she could gather, he had yet to breathe a word of this to anyone (with the exception of herself and Hetty) and apparently it was going to stay that way. As for his involvement in the case, well, the LAPD had been less than forthcoming and due to various red-tape and jurisdiction qualms there really was nothing the NCIS could offer in any professional capacity – something the agent was less than pleased about.

Hell, it had been less than a day and it was already beginning to eat away at the usually unflappable Kensi. This..._tenseness_ in her partner was not only harrowing but downright worrying. She could tell he hadn't eaten since she last saw him, hadn't kept up his end of the bargain by promising to look after himself and call her if he needed her. She regretted ever leaving his apartment now...it wasn't a mistake she was going to make again. He was there for her in her time of need, now it was time for her to be there for him.

It's what partners do.

With a furrowed brow, she watched intently as he plodded over to the coffee machine and began to potter around. After a moment, a loud thump sounded throughout the room. She absolutely did not jump.

"Dammit!" Deeks hissed, smacking the blasted coffee machine with one hand while sucking the now scalded thumb of his other hand.

"You know it can't argue back right?" came the voice of his partner from behind him.

"If only..." he murmured, glaring down at his coffee cup before abandoning it altogether and trudging back to his desk, plonking down into his chair heavily.

"Geez Deeks, and I thought you were a culinary genius! Letting coffee get the better of you? You're letting down your gender partner," Kensi quipped, trying to inject some humor into the situation (despite knowing that it wasn't exactly her area of expertise), to try and keep things as normal as possible. She even managed a roll of her eyes before sauntering over to the coffee station and flawlessly making herself a nice, big cuppa Joe on the brand new machine.

"Show off," the detective mumbled as she bowed at him, taking her prize back to her desk and sitting down gently, trying not to convey how on edge she felt.

"You're just jealous at my superior skills," she smirked jokingly, taking a sip and arching a brow at him, faux-daring him to question her.

Deeks merely stared at her, his gaze unfocused, as if she were transparent. That uncomfortable bout of unease rose in her stomach. She had to say something, anything...she couldn't imagine what was going through but one thing was for damn sure, she wasn't going to let him go through it alone.

"Deeks—"

A loud chirp of a text message interrupted her, her gaze gluing to him as his entire body stilled, frozen in time as he stared down at the words across the screen.

Kensi's heart hammered in her chest as she tried to guess what they said. None of the possibilities were good.

"Deeks what—"

Suddenly the detective was up and out of his chair, practically sprinting toward the door without a backwards glance, throwing a "give me a sec," over his shoulder, cell-phone stuck to his ear.

With a frown creasing between her eyebrows, she went to follow him, only to be blocked by Sam and Callen as they walked into OSP, their eyes following Deeks as he pushed roughly past them.

"What's with Speedy Gonzales?" Sam asked as he and Callen entered the bullpen.

"Uh...we gotta go, tell Hetty," Kensi muttered before racing after her partner.

When she said he wasn't going to go through this alone, she meant it.

* * *

Impatient fingers tapped on the steering wheel along to the beat of the song on the radio as guarded orbs stared out the window, impatiently flickering at each vehicle that passed by.

Dark eyes glanced sideways at the twitching hand, wishing for the incessant drumming to cease but vocal cords appeared to be uncooperative since the keyed up agent folded herself into the car thirty minutes ago.

"You're quiet," he observed lowly, his right hand now joining his left in his drum-beat.

"Didn't wanna ruin your jam," she deadpanned, again forcing herself not to crane her neck and stare out his window, eyes ever searching for whatever or whomever he was waiting for.

"Yeah, guess I'm flying solo," he murmured softly an unbearable weight to his words.

Kensi's heart practically ceased beating as those nine syllables rang in her ears. Never had she ever heard a sentence as laced with such strong emotion, such quiet conviction, the double-meaning plain for the world to see – despite her partner's best efforts.

With a determined nod of her head, the agent reached forward and started drumming her fingertips down the length of the dashboard, her rhythm melding perfectly with his. The detective turned his head and for a second, one miniscule moment, his gaze met hers, and a glimmer of her familiar partner shone through, the upbeat, cheeky, wondrous blond with a sharp intelligence and even more mischievous glint to his eye.

But as quick as it arrived, the flash of the real Deeks faded and was replaced by a shell, an imposter of her partner, a stranger to her, as his face grew clouded, guarded, closing off from the world outside his own tortuous thoughts, memories.

It didn't take long to catch what it was that caused this sudden wall to appear between her and the liaison as without craning her neck she could clearly see the arrival of a tall, grey-haired man with the physicality a younger man could only aspire to have and an essence of once being the person in the room that every eye was drawn to.

Deeks was out of the car and slamming the door behind him as Kensi scrambled to catch up, turning just in time to see the other man hold out his hand for her partner to shake.

"Martin Brandel?" he asked as his hand was left suspended in mid-air.

"Well there's a name I haven't heard in a long time..." Deeks inhaled sharply before swallowing and clasping the man's hand tightly.

Kensi watched the exchange back and forth silently, her eyes darting to and fro as if she were a particularly enthusiastic tennis viewer.

"So you are Martin?" the grey-haired man asked, his voice a little on edge.

"Who's asking? You were very cloak and dagger on the phone," Deeks replied, shoving his hands in his pockets as Kensi walked around the side of the car to stand behind him.

The man politely stepped forward and offered her his hand which she shook curtly before mimicking her partner's stance – upholding a united front.

The still-stranger nodded to her politely before turning to Deeks and replying quietly yet firmly:

"My name is Jimmy Woodruffe; I'm an ex-sergeant with the Los Angeles Police Department."

Kensi's eyebrows shot up to her hairline as she drank in those words. This was something she didn't expect. After all, it wasn't every day an ex-cop asked a current cop to meet him in an alley in a relatively secluded part of town to exchange pleasantries...she didn't regret bringing her extra ammo, better to be safe than sorry as they say.

Something seemed to stir within Deeks as the ex-cop introduced himself; it was subtle but almost certainly there. He recognized that name, Kensi was sure of it.

"And what do you want with Martin Brandel?" he asked, breaking the engulfing silence.

The name felt wrong to Kensi. All kinds of wrong.

Woodruffe shifted a little, his left foot scuffing on the loose gravel of the sidewalk, his hands clamped tightly at his sides as he fought to keep eye-contact with the detective.

"It's in relation to a cold-case from 22 years ago, a friend of mine in the department alerted me that a body was found a couple of days ago that they think may be related to it. May I ask who I'm talking to?"

Deeks appeared satisfied with his response and offered up his reply almost instantly:

"Well, seeing as you somehow got my number, I think you already know I'm Martin Brandel...or was once upon a time. I go by Detective Marty Deeks now."

Yep, Kensi decided. Marty Deeks just had a better ring to it.

"Well," Woodruffe began, glancing between the two partners in an expression of surrender, "in that case, Detective Deeks, I better get talkin.'"

The agent and liaison shared a look.

This oughta be good...

Or very, very bad...

* * *

The tech analyst heaved a soft sigh as again her search came up practically empty. It had been four hours now since Deeks asked her to find an old friend of his and she was still having no luck. Whoever this mysterious woman was, she could damn well hide her tracks...

"What'cha doin' Nell?" Eric asked his partner for what must have been the eleventh time in fifteen minutes.

Nell didn't bother suppressing the eye-roll that fought its way onto her face.

"Wow...I didn't realize we were in Elementary School Beale," she replied dryly, her fingers flying rapidly over the keyboard, her hazel gaze never straying from the screen.

Eric made a face at her before catching himself, realizing it was probably not the best response to prove his maturity. Figures.

"I'm just curious, you've been doing something over there for a while and unless I'm mistaken, we've no open cases right now..." he trailed off, hoping she would jump in any minute now and fill him in on whatever was going on.

Nell however just shrugged as her brain argued with her about the next plausible action for her to take to find this woman. She couldn't tell why, but she knew this was incredibly important to Deeks and she didn't want to let him down, something told her that he couldn't take it today. She knew there was a lot more to this than he let on and if the lingering of unease that had settled in her spine was any indication, something bad was going down.

Shutting off those thoughts before they could truly ensnared her, a light bulb went off in the analyst's head and she quickly typed Benson+Reseda+High+School to scour any of the old school papers for more information on Andrea who Nell already knew to be the paper's co-editor. Maybe they could give her any indication of her interests etc. which could lead to a career path which could—

Nell's entwining train of thought was pulled to a sudden stop as an article popped up on her screen, causing her mouth to drop open and her heart to hammer in her chest. With a quivering gaze, she read the bold, black letters:

_**FAY BENSON, BELOVED STUDENT OF RESEDA HIGH SCHOOL IS HONORED AT CEREMONY BY PAST AND PRESENT STUDENTS ON THE DAY OF THE FIVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF HER DISAPPEARENCE.**_

The analyst frantically scrolled down, her eyes glued to the screen as she read the article that was written in 1995 by the other editor of the school newspaper, Alicia Pearson.

_**Fay Benson, aged 17 at the time of her disappearance, is honored tonight by the lighting of candles from her family and friends inside Reseda High School grounds.**_

_**Fay was last seen on January 31**__**st**__** 1990 at the movie theatre by her then boyfriend Will Jenkins but never made it home. She was officially declared missing on February 2**__**nd **__**1990. The case still remains unsolved and the police urge anyone with any information pertaining to her disappearance to come forward. **_

_**Our hearts, thoughts and prayers go out to the family, especially Fay's sister, our friend and classmate Andi. Each candle represents the shining light that Fay shone onto everyone's lives and each day that passes those lights shine brighter with the wonderful memories we have of her. So come together friends and light a candle to celebrate the life of Fay Benson, gone but never forgotten...**_

"Hey Nell, you okay?" Eric asked gently as he leaned a little into her, his eyes following hers to the screen.

Nell started, his voice startling her as she hurried to close the page but not quite fast enough. Eric leaned even further in and raked his gaze down the article, his eyes gluing to the picture of a beautiful, brunette girl, smiling brightly beside a younger child with the same flowing brown hair, no older than ten.

"What're you working on?" he asked, looking from the screen to Nell and back again.

"Uh...I'm not sure yet," she murmured as her fingers flew over the keyboard, spelling out the words Missing+Persons+Disappearance+1990+California before leaning back in her chair and blowing out a startled puff of air as the multitude of results popped up. It was one scanned article from a newspaper dated two days ago that caught her attention:

_**BODY OF A YOUNG GIRL FOUND IN DESERT BY LOCAL AUTHORITIES.**_

_**Early yesterday morning the remains of a young woman were discovered in the desert by police who were apparently led to the burial site by a man remanded in custody. While the identity of the girl has not been released, it has been noted that the circumstances around her death are being treated as suspicious. When questioned on said circumstances the police refused to issue a statement at this time but a source has said that the remains are suspected to be over 15 years old. Story continued on page 7—**_

Neurons fired through the synapses in Nell's brain as she read the short article, various hypothesizes, educated guesses and deductive reasoning colouring her final theory.

"Deeks asked me to find an old friend of his, Andrea Benson," she said suddenly, all the pieces slotting into place. Why would Deeks ask for her to find this girl whose sister went missing over twenty years ago? Well, there could have been a number of reasons (none of which relating to said missing sister) but with the sudden uncovering of a body that is suspected of being dead for over 15 years just seems like too much of a coincidence not to be connected.

"Huh," Eric replied thoughtfully scratching his chin.

"What?" Nell asked, wondering if there was something she missed.

"The missing girl...she went to the same High School as Deeks and grew up in the same neighbourhood," he commented, pointing out the details in the article and various others that she'd yet to check.

"You think Deeks knows about the body, thinks it's Andrea's sister and wants her number to tell her?" Nell asked, rubbing her furrowed brow with the back of her hand, barely imagining what Deeks could be going through, having to deliver such horrid news to an old friend.

"Sounds like it," Eric agreed, sitting forward and typing something.

"What're you doing?" Nell asked, throwing him a confused glance before watching the rapid letters materialize.

"Checking incident reports for the days leading up to Fay Benson's disappearance, see if anything jumps out," he murmured, his glasses illuminating the glare from the screen.

Nell nodded, setting to work to do the same, the only sound omitting from the room being the rapid tapping of keys before the two partners simultaneously let out surprised gasps.

"Oh my god..." Nell breathed as she read the words of a particular report dating back to the night before the young girl disappeared. It was filed by a Sergeant by the name of James Woodruffe and outlined an altercation between Fay Benson's father with a local man, a man whose name she immediately recognized.

"Is that...?" Eric's words stuck in his throat as he pulled up the mug shot of the other man, "he...he looks so much like—"

"I know," Nell cut him off abruptly, biting her lip nervously.

"Hey Eric, settle a bet for me and Sam would you—" Callen stopped abruptly in the Ops' doorway, his partner almost walking into his back as they were practically bowled over by the overpowering tension ensnaring the room.

"Who died?" Sam asked, only half-kidding as he edged over to the two techies, the picture on Nell's screen catching his attention.

"Is that..." he trailed off, turning his gaze to his partner as he stepped closer and stared at the screen also.

Callen's mouth dropped open as he read the name and saw the face in the accompanying mug-shot.

Eric gaped at Nell, then at the partners, an uncomfortable feeling rising in his chest.

"Nell? What is it?" he asked, not being able to shake the feeling that his friend was hiding something from him.

"We need to find Andrea, Eric," she ignored his question, already bolting out of her chair and tip-toeing around Sam and Callen, calling over her shoulder, "but first, we gotta tell Hetty."

Eric stared at her retreating back, the uncomfortable feeling rising ever higher, like acidic bile in his throat as the two partners raced out of the room after her.

This was not good.

* * *

Kensi clasped her hands together as Jimmy Woodruffe's words washed over her. Out of the corner of her eye, she surveyed her partner as he stiffened; clearly disturbed by what the ex-cop just told him.

"So you're saying that my father had a fist fight with Andi and Fay's dad the night before Fay disappeared but you still don't think he killed her?" he gritted, his jaw tightly wound, his fingers gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white.

"Yeah Detective, that's exactly what I'm saying...look, I don't know if you remember me or not but...I knew your mom and dad a long time ago and—Brandel was a lot of things I know, but I don't think he was capable of this," he replied timidly, aware of how his words were affecting Deeks.

The detective huffed out a humourless laugh.

"Oh yeah, I guess he was just capable of attempted murderer, my mistake..." he snorted, "but you know what else he was capable of? Being a nasty drunk, a cheat, a thief, a con-artist always looking for his next big store, but most of all? He was a bastard, through and through. He was a lying, violent bastard who made my mom's life hell and tried to—" his breath hitched and he swallowed deeply.

Kensi ached to reach out and take his hand but stopped herself as he began to speak again, his voice a little more gravelly than before:

"Fay Benson was a beautiful, seventeen year old girl that was constantly trying to escape this town. She would have been the perfect victim for—"

"That's not what I meant, Marty. I'm very aware your father could have committed this type of horrendous crime, I'm very aware of what that man was capable of believe me. What I meant was, I don't think he was able to kill her because not an hour prior to her estimated disappearance he was still locked up in a jail cell with me holding the keys to his freedom..." he trailed off before clearing his throat and continuing, "and seen as that jail cell was more than two and a half hours away from where Fay was last seen, I don't think it was physically possible for Brandel to get to—"

"So if my father didn't kill Fay, who did?" Deeks interrupted, his tone as sharp as steel.

Woodruffe levelled his stare, intently looking into Deeks' orbs, his voice full of conviction and sincerity, "I couldn't prove it back then but...I would like to help you prove it now."

"That doesn't answer his question," Kensi replied, folding her arms and cocking her head to the side.

"I—" for what felt like the umpteenth time that day their conversation was interrupted by the shrill ring of a cell phone.

Deeks rolled his eyes and plunged his hand in his pocket, ready to cut off the call before realizing that it was coming from ops. Hope sprung in his chest.

"Nell?" he was already saying into the phone as he answered.

"Mr Deeks," the voice of Hetty replied, "would you and Ms. Blye please make your way back in please, we have much to discuss."

Kensi frowned as she watched her partner's face twist into a frown as he began to argue:

"But Het—"

"Now, Mr. Deeks."

And with that, she hung up.

Deeks slowly lowered the phone from his ear and averted his eyes from his partner and the ex-cop as he grumbled, "we uh...got somewhere to be. Do you have a number I can call or do we have to do the shrouded in shadows, trench-coat by a lamppost meet-up again?"

Woodruffe offered him a wry grin before sliding a slip of paper containing his phone number across the table, knocking back the last of his beer in the dimly lit bar.

"I look forward to hearing from you, Detective Deeks," he said as he stood up from the table, slamming down a few dollar bills.

Deeks nodded and waited until he disappeared out of sight before turning to his partner.

"Hetty wants us back in," he grumbled before standing up and shrugging on his jacket.

Kensi followed suit and they made their way out.

For some reason, the agent couldn't shake the feeling that they were being sent to the gallows...

* * *

"Now, Lieutenant Bates, you will think about everything I've said? That's good...and thank you again for calling me back. I'll inform Detective Deeks know immediately," Hetty hung up, allowing a moment of quiet contemplation before she made her way back up to Ops.

Before she even reached the stairs however, Kensi and Deeks walked through the door and towards her.

"Ah, Mr. Deeks, Ms. Blye, good of you to join us, we've convened upstairs," she announced before climbing the stairs without a backwards glance.

The partners shared a look before following her, shuffling up the stairs and towards Ops in complete silence. When they reached the door, Deeks allowed his partner to enter first and kept his eyes lowered as he was immediately hit with an overwhelming sense of tension radiating off all of his co-workers.

"When were you planning on telling us?" Callen asked curtly, folding his arms, and spreading his stance into one of defense.

"Excuse me?" Deeks asked levelly, his eyes narrowing into slits as six pairs of eyes stared at him.

"About the body of the missing girl, your link to her or the fact that your father was implicated in her disappearance, all of the above would have sufficed," Callen continued, clearly irate at being left out of the loop.

"Well, gee Callen, I didn't really think it was anything to do with you guys, seeing as you're NCIS and this is LAPD's case," he replied, unable to keep the anger from seeping into his tone.

"Nothing to do with us? We're your colleagues; your friends, we're a team, how could you—"

"Oh you mean how could I keep this from you? Please Callen, don't you think it's a little hypocritical for you to preach to me about—"

"That's enough," Hetty cut across firmly, holding up one of her hands to silence Deeks.

"Now we are all up to speed I've called you here to inform you that I've received word from Lieutenant Bates that they are in no need of our services as like Mr. Deeks said it is a matter for the LAPD not NCIS..." the entire team gaped and began to loudly protest but she merely held up her hand again.

"However," she began, a glint in her eye, "it just so happens that we have a member of the LAPD on our side and if my sources are correct, we also have the help of an ex-Sergeant by the name of James Woodruffe, the original head of this case when it first broke 22 years ago..."

It was official, the woman knew everything.

"So, I would suggest that you Mr. Deeks, go and plead with your Lieutenant to let you investigate this case despite your link to it, something tells me he'll be a little more receptive than you think..." she trailed off, an enigmatic expression on her face.

Everyone in the room stared at the petite brunette. They all knew well what that tone meant. Hetty and her puppeteering.

"But first, I believe you have someone you wish to contact," she stepped forward and slipped something into the detective's hand.

"Know Mr. Deeks, that you've the full force of OSP behind you, maybe not in a professional sense but..." she broke off, giving a little shake of her head before continuing, "please...keep us updated in any developments," Hetty finished with a light pat to his hand before walking briskly out the room.

Deeks stared down at the paper clutched in his grasp, a neat and familiar scrawl listing the address of a house not too far away. Ignoring the five sets of eyes boring into him, he turned on his heel and made his way out of the room, calling softly over his shoulder, "you comin' Kens?"

With one last glance to her colleagues, the agent followed her partner out of the room, silently grateful that he wasn't shutting her out this time.

Tensions were running high and they needed to stick together. She needed to stand by his side.

She was afraid what would happen if she didn't...

* * *

"Callen's pissed," he commented drily as they pulled up a little down the street from the address they obtained from Hetty.

Kensi turned off the ignition and angled her entire body in his direction.

"Yeah but he's just concerned Deeks...we all are. How—how are you doin' anyway?" she asked attentively, again overwhelmed by the urge to reach out and touch him.

He couldn't meet her gaze, instead focusing on the red-painted door across the street.

"I'm fine."

There was that word again. God did she _hate_ that word.

"Okay...if you say so. You ready?" she asked, deciding to drop the conversation for now and focus on the task at hand, already reaching out for the door handle.

"Can you uh...can you stay in the car?" he murmured, his hand flying to halt her, his fingers lightly brushing the skin on her forearm, "this...this is something I need to do alone."

There was a beat of silence as finally his orbs met hers for a moment, seeming dimmer than she ever remembered them being. She ignored the pain of pain that rose in her chest.

"Okay, sure partner...I'll be here if you need me..."

He nodded silently, his mouth pulled into a thin line before climbing out of the car and walking briskly across the road, his mind racing as he realized that he was going to come face to face with an old friend he hadn't seen in over twelve years. An old friend that had meant the absolute world to him. This was not the way he ever envisioned them reuniting.

With a soft sigh, he raised his hand to the door and knocked twice before he lost his nerve. With shuffling feet and hands clamped to his sides, he waited with bated breath, shifting his weight back and forth and biting his lip as the door slowly began to open.

He swallowed deeply as the woman he'd thought of sporadically over the last decade was revealed to him. Silently, he drank in her widened, hazel gaze, her wavy chestnut hair that just sat on her shoulders and her tall stature that really, over time hadn't changed a bit. A soft, attentive smile spread across his face as for the first time in days he felt something akin to happiness (albeit tinged with sadness and dread) flowed through his veins.

"Marty?" she gaped, finishing her own inspection of him.

"Hey Andi," he grinned softly as she leapt forward and enveloped him in a huge hug, already murmuring into his shoulder.

"I'm barely back in town for two months and you already find me? You really are a super hero," she teased, before she caught on to his stillness, the smile dropping from his face as he psyched himself up to say what needed to be said.

"Marty? What's wrong?" she asked, concern flitting across her beautiful face, as in tune with his emotions as ever, like no time had passed.

Their eyes interlocked, their mixed pasts fluttering across their mind's eye. Finally, Deeks opened his mouth and half-whispered:

"We found Fay."

* * *

_Present_

"Oh no Kens...that's the girl that _you_ look like," Deeks quipped, crossing over to the driver's side and opening the door.

Kensi gaped at him, unsure of what to say. She pushed down the irrational sense of diffidence that seeped into her veins at his words and climbed into the passenger seat. Before Deeks could settle into the car however, his cell phone began to ring for what felt like the millionth time today.

With an apologetic smile directed in the rear-view mirror at Andi, he stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk, phone held at his ear.

Kensi shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the car was plunged into silence. It suddenly occurred to her that she never offered her condolences and silently berated herself.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she murmured, turning in her seat to look the woman in her eye.

"Thank you," she replied softly.

Another beat of silence passed before Kensi continued:

"Has the LAPD been in contact with you?"

"Aren't you guys the LAPD?" Andi asked, confusion colouring her tone.

"Deeks is yeah, but have you or your parents been alerted by any other members of the department?" she prodded gently, curious at how far the LAPD were along in the case.

"Uh yeah, my mom was contacted earlier this morning. She's still at the station as far as I know...I just got back into town two months ago so I don't know if they'd have my new address on record but...you guys found me. I—I'm glad it was Marty and not some stranger to tell me my sister was finally found. Marty...he was always a sweetheart...was the kindest guy in the world," she smiled; her dark eyes alight with wonder and shrouded too by an intense pain.

"He still is..." Kensi agreed, a small, soft smile on her face.

"So are you guys..." Andi asked suddenly, trailing off, her suggestion hanging for the entire universe to see.

Kensi's eyes bulged as she cleared her throat loudly, watching intently out the window to see if Deeks was overhearing any of their conversation, but when he failed to turn around she found it safe to reply.

"Me and Deeks? No, I—no...what gave you that idea?" Kensi gaped.

Andi shrugged, turning to observe her partner's back.

"Well, you know he said you were his _partner_ and he always did have a thing for brunettes," she smiled grimly.

"Yeah, so I heard. But no, we're just work partners, friends..." she trailed off as she saw Deeks hang up and make his way back over to them.

"What's up?" she asked quietly as she saw his grim expression as he settled himself into the seat and shut the door.

He looked up suddenly, as if startled by her presence.

"That was Lieutenant Bates," he murmured quietly, jolted with shock, "he just called to tell me that uh..." he caught Andi's gaze in the rear view mirror, "a man has come forward claiming that he's responsible for Fay's death."

**A/N: Wow. That was LONG! I realize A LOT happened in this chapter and it's a little overwhelming but I promise the next chapter will be more reigned in and focusing more so on Deeks and how all of this is affecting him mentally and emotionally and things case-wise will become a lot clearer. Here's something to whet your appetites...**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"_**Look at me Deeks," she ordered quietly, tilting his face the last few inches until they were level. Slowly, her partner looked up, his eyes shining softly in the moonlight, the windows to his soul completely open to her for the first time – revealing everything he felt, anger, fear, pain...and something else, just a little something behind it all, something warm and comforting and just for her.**_

"_**Trust me partner," she continued, her voice still soft but with a trace of firmness as she reached up with her other hand to cup his other cheek, her two-toned eyes boring into his, "you are a lot of things, funny, smart, charismatic, and even a little bit of a show-off," she paused as they both shared a grin, "but most of all, you're gentle, sweet and the kindest man I have ever known. You are as far away from Gordon John Brandel as you can possibly get...and don't let anything or anyone convince you otherwise or you'll be answering to me, got it?" **_

**Please Review :)**


	24. Infandous AKA 'Deeks, M' Part III

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 24: Infandous AKA 'Deeks, M' Part III**

**A/N: Again, I'm indebted to all of you for your wonderful support :D Dedicated again to the awesome SuperDensi427! (Thanks for Bizzaro-Kensi) :D**

**Disclaimer: Neither NCIS: LA nor Broken!Deeks is mine...thankfully, because a broken Deeks is just the saddest thing in the world :(**

**WARNING: CONTAINS DARK THEMES! ANGST & HURT/COMFORT ALERT!**

**NOTE: INCREDIBLY LONG CHAPTER AHEAD! Feel free to take tea/coffee breaks in between if you get tired, I know I did lol :P**

* * *

**WOTD: INFANDOUS; In·fan·do·us _adj_. Unspeakable or too odious/horrible to be expressed or mentioned**

"He didn't do it, Marty."

Deeks dragged a weary palm down his face, Andi staring up at him indignantly as they waited outside the interrogation room in the LAPD precinct.

"Andi—"

"He didn't. Tommy is such a good guy he wouldn't—"

"You haven't seen him in years Andi...people change."

"I have," she replied cryptically, ignoring the shift of movement from the other brunette that sat beside her. Deeks' eyes averted to his clearly uncomfortable partner who sat next to Andi on one of the hard, plastic chairs for a moment before flickering his gaze back to his old friend and arguing:

"Yeah, that's what I mean. People change, evolve—"

"I meant I have seen him recently," she deadpanned, folding her arms.

Deeks frowned. What the hell was she talking about?

"Where? You've only been back a few weeks..."

She cleared her throat, her eyes faltering from his as she picked at the hem of her blouse.

"At school," she grumbled quietly, so much so that Deeks had to lean forward to hear her properly.

"What school?" he asked, utterly perplexed of how she managed to come across an old friend of Fay's after all this time. As far as he knew, a lot of them had moved out of state.

"Reseda High School..." Deeks eyebrows rose at the familiar name, "I work there now. I'm the new counsellor ," she finished her gaze returning to his as if to seek his approval but she clearly wasn't, Andi was never the type of girl to seek approval from anyone.

"And...what does he do?" the detective asked, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall, surveying the two beautiful brunettes in front of him. It was surreal to have them side by side, one his past love and the other...well, _Kensi_. Kensi Blye, who was being incredibly quiet, more quiet than usual since they picked Andi up at her house.

He knew his partner didn't agree with bringing the victim's sister to the precinct where the man copping to her murder was being held but Deeks just couldn't find it in him to let Andi go so quickly after finding her again. It had been so long, 12 years since he seen her and that last moment he shared with her had snuck up on him and replayed in his mind when he was least expecting it many times since then.

Even now, as he stared down at her, he saw that she hadn't changed a bit over the years, he could still see that face, 20 years old, bereft and broken, tears streaming down her cheeks as she yelled at him, pushed him, pleaded with him. He remembered it as if it were yesterday and seeing her now, so...defeated and broken again, it was torture. He couldn't leave her now. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"He's a janitor," she was saying as he snapped out of his trip down memory lane, "look, he didn't kill Fay. He loved her, idolized her. He didn't do this..."

Kensi watched the two closely as they interacted. Deeks appeared to be off in his own little world as Andi grumbled softly, clearly disturbed by the thought that her sister could have been murdered by a person they both knew and liked a great deal.

It was odd, uncomfortable, being here between the two of them. She felt as if she were intruding on a particularly private moment and there was only one other time she ever felt like that around Deeks...when he was with Nicole. But this was somehow much worse; she was actually in the same room this time, literally stuck in the middle and...Andi wasn't a woman that fell for Deeks when he was pretending to be someone else. No, she was a woman that fell in love with him when they were kids, who knew the real Marty, the Marty before he was Deeks, before he was a lawyer, before he was a detective, the real Marty Deeks that Kensi never knew.

Her heart panged deeply as she thought of that. She knew that they'd been in love once, that much was obvious by their body language and how they spoke to each other even in a situation as tense as this. Question was, why did the thought of them being in love (once upon a time) cause bile to rise in the agent's throat? Why did it make her stomach lurch uneasily and her chest cavity ache?

Before she could dwell on these painful inner-queries, the agent's attention was caught by the interrogation room door opening and Detective Kinney and Detective Harris walking out and halting in front of Deeks, both looking disgruntled and plain pissed at his presence.

"Well, looks like we're gonna find out," Deeks muttered to Andi before turning his head to his LAPD colleagues.

"Five minutes Deeks...I don't care that Bates let you consult on this case, it's still ours and what we say goes, got it?" Harris practically growled as Deeks held up his hands, plastering on a grin (that Kensi could see through a mile off) and stepping around them.

"Sure thing Harris...what you say goes, got it," he winked before nodding at the brunettes and stepping into the room and folding his arms, his usually bright eyes now dimmed as he drank in the sight of Tommy Maxwell, a guy he had a hazy memory of from when he was a kid.

He was another that hadn't really changed over the years. He was still small, compact, incredibly thin and almost sickly-looking, frail in his light weight and practically translucent skin. He seemed timid, child-like, well under his 39 years, not a wrinkle or grey hair in sight.

Deeks cast his mind back to whenever he was over at Andi's house and Tommy would be there, always firmly in between Fay and Will, the constant third-wheel for the couple but Andi was right, he did idolize Fay, hung on her every word. But he did that with Will too, like he was just so happy that someone as 'popular' as them would cast a glance in the direction of someone like him but that's who Fay was. She was never arrogant or self-righteous, she was sweet and gentle and kind. She didn't deserve to die like that...no one did.

"Hello Tommy," Deeks called and he strolled into the room, adopting an air of ease (that he hadn't felt since this entire case began) and sat down in the car opposite him.

A flash of recognition passed across Tommy's face as he stared with his pale, olive eyes over to the detective. Apparently he thought Deeks hadn't changed much either.

"You know who I am?" he asked, putting down the manila folder and placing his clasped hands on top of it on the steel table.

"You—look familiar," he squeaked, his voice still a couple of octaves higher than the average guy, just how Deeks remembered.

"Well, it has been a long time so I'll jog your memory. I'm Detective Marty Deeks...but I guess you'd remember me as Marty Brandel..."

Maxwell's eyebrows rose at that.

"A-Andi's boyfriend?" he asked a little shakily, clearly nervous as tiny droplets of sweat formed on his brow.

"I was...once, yeah," the blond nodded, before shifting his hands and opening the file, pulling out some pictures and sliding them across the table.

Intently, he watched as Maxwell's eyes stared down at them, his nervous composure morphing into one of pure horror as he glanced from a photo of a happy, smiling Fay with little sister to the one that showed the remains of the young girl, a decomposed skeleton on a cold slab in the morgue.

Tommy shut his eyes, a grimace marring his face, his nose and lips scrunched up as a trickle of tears escaped his lids and trailed down his cheeks.

Deeks tilted his head pensively as he gauged this reaction. _Interesting..._

"Now that we've been reintroduced Tommy, I think it's time we talked about Fay..."

* * *

Kensi crossed her right leg over her left for a moment before changing her mind and crossing her left over her right, shifting a little on the hard chair, trying and failing to get comfortable. Out of the corner of her eye she could feel Andi's gaze wash over her as they waited in silence in the corridor, ignoring the hustle and bustle of cops and legal personnel in the station.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, tilting her head to catch the agent's eye.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" she replied gently, startled that the older brunette had caught on to her sense of discomfort and her unrelenting thoughts.

"Well let's just say we asked each other and we're both okay," she responded with a little mirth in her gaze as Kensi felt a soft smile creep up onto her face without permission.

"Deal...so uh, how—how long have you known Deeks?"

Wow, she hated how unsubtle that sounded.

Andi's face broke out with a beam as she cast her gaze to the left, clearly casting her mind back to a time long before now. Kensi watched intently as she paused to think, an irrational sense of envy engulfing her at the thought that this woman had such a long history with her partner that she had to take her time to respond. Quickly, the agent scolded herself inwardly, shaking her head to quell that ridiculous feeling, push it deep, deep down.

"Me and Marty, we grew up together in the same neighbourhood. There was less than a year between the two of us and we were in the same grade so really we were always together. And when we met Ray the three of us were inseparable. We did practically everything together, they were the best friends a girl could ask for. I remember I even went through this phase of making friendship bracelets and I made one for Marty and Ray and my sister too, and they all wore them; even though they looked terrible, just to make me smile.

"People used called us The Three Musketeers, something that _really_ bugged the Ray, Marty never seemed to mind though..." she trailed off, a chuckle on her lips, "and yeah, for a long time that's all we were, good friends. They were both my rocks after my sister disappeared, I don't know what I would have done without either of them, it was all so much for a ten year old to deal with.

"Then, when we got a little older and Ray began to date everything in a skirt, Marty started to feel left out so he and I began to hang out more by ourselves and well...you know how it is. We went from friends to..._more than friends_ and dated through High School and a little into college but I had to move away and we kinda lost touch," she finished, a bittersweet twist to her lips.

Kensi gaped at her, surprised at how open she was, how easily she offered up her past, especially the more emotional parts. She could tell that this was something that ate away at Andi in the dead of night, the 'what-ifs' that plagued her mind as she thought of her past. She could relate really, the 'what-ifs' were what kept Kensi up at night too, with one particular blond usually being centre-stage. She wondered if that same blond starred in Andi's thoughts too...

She felt a sharp pain shoot up her stomach and into her chest as she reflected on that. All Deeks had said about them was that they were old friends. He had failed to mention that by 'old friends' he probably meant 'first love' by the sound of it. Kensi was at a loss of what to even think about that—

"How long have you known Marty?" she asked after a moment's silence, interrupting the agent's rollercoaster thoughts.

Kensi's widened polychrome eyes met Andi's hazel ones as she struggled with what to tell her. Unfortunately she didn't have the same openness, wouldn't and couldn't afford that luxury even if she wasn't an undercover agent.

"We uh...we met just over three years ago. Have been partners for nearly as long..." she trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"What's he like now?" she asked, curiosity colouring her tone.

"He uh...I guess he'd be pretty much the same as you remember, still a smartass, upbeat and always ready with a joke. But he's also a damn good cop, a great man and a fantastic partner just...don't tell him I said that," she smirked.

Andi chuckled, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, wouldn't wanna risk him getting an even bigger head, he wouldn't fit through the door," she laughed as Kensi snorted, nodding at the validity of that statement.

"Ain't that the truth," she agreed, feeling a little more at ease now in Andi's company.

"You guys must be talkin' about me if you're smiling that much," the man in question said suddenly as he closed the interrogation room door behind him and stared down at the two women.

"Don't flatter yourself," Kensi deadpanned as she and Andi leapt up, eagerly awaiting to hear how the interrogation went.

"Well, someone's gotta flatter me," he smirked gently as he went to sit down opposite the two chairs they had just vacated. Taking his lead, the brunettes sat back down again, two pairs of dark eyes locked firmly on him.

"Well, what's the verdict?" Andi asked, her voice a little on edge as Deeks shifted and sat forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.

Slowly, he heaved a sigh, staring her straight in the face and replying softly and with a hint of empathy:

"You were right Andi, I don't think he did it..."

* * *

Kensi started the ignition, fighting the urge to glance at her partner sideways as he pulled on his seat belt and slouched against the headrest, letting out what felt like his millionth weary sigh in the last 72 hours.

"How is she?" she asked quietly as she began to drive down the street and out of Andi Benson's neighbourhood.

"Better than to be expected," he murmured, "but Andi was always tough."

Kensi nodded and kept her eyes on the road.

"Did she get in contact with her mom?"

It was Deeks' turn to nod.

"Yeah...apparently it didn't go well. She kinda lost touch with her parents when she moved to Chicago to go to college. Their relationship was always tense but it got pretty unbearable the years after Fay disappeared. Honestly I don't know why Andi stuck around as long as she did..."

_I do_, Kensi silently answered, reflecting on the sweet expression on Andi's face as she reminisced about she and Deeks.

The chirp of a text-message interrupted the conversation. Deeks took out his phone and glanced down at the screen, a hum of interest erupting from him as he read it.

"Who is it?" Kensi asked curiously.

"Woodruffe...he wants to know if we can meet him first thing in the morning," he responded distractedly as he typed back his reply.

"Where were you thinking?"

Deeks looked up and caught her gaze for a moment, his eyes more ablaze with determination that it had been since this case began.

"The boat shed," he said firmly, "I think it's about time he told us his theory about all this, don't you?"

* * *

Kensi pressed the brake and turned off the engine as she pulled up outside Deeks' apartment block. It was late, had felt like one of the longest days in history and she was bone tired, but none of what she was feeling could possibly compare to what her partner must have felt. She took a quiet moment to drink in his appearance as he rested his head back on the seat, his eyes firmly closed, his chest rising and falling a little quickly, his face tinged with a look of discomfort. She recognized that expression, her stomach heaved a little at the thought.

He was dreaming again.

But she hesitated to wake him. She knew he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before, had more than likely paced his apartment and dredged up old memories and god knows what else. And he was paying for it now, he looked...wretched. Drained. He'd become even more worn out over the course of the day, temporarily reanimated with Andi's presence only to sink back into his almost zombie-state as he tried to keep going on little-to-no sleep and gallons of coffee.

He wasn't taking care of himself and she knew for damn sure that if it were her acting like this Deeks would be all over it, bringing her food and making her eat it, staying watch on her couch as she grabbed a couple of hours of well-needed rest...but this was all new territory for Kensi. She had to be his unflappable support, his protector, the person who ensured he took care of himself, ate and slept and showered and didn't drive himself crazy.

Which was the main reason (she convinced herself) that there was a fully-stocked duffel bag in the trunk of her car, containing her pajamas and a spare toothbrush and fresh clothes etc. for this precise moment. The moment she knew would come as soon as he started down this well-worn but marginally-ignored path. She said she wasn't going to leave him alone again until he was through this and damn it if that meant literally, then so be it.

"Deeks...Deeks..." she called gently, poking him in the side with the tip of her finger, a sense of déjà vu washing over her as she remembered the night of his drunken stupor where all of this really began.

She was going to wake him, grab her bag and get him to bed, making sure he ate breakfast in the morning, took a shower and changed his clothes. She knew it wouldn't do much for his tender emotional state but it was better than nothing, and certainly something she could ensure.

But most of all, she'd be there for him. Through everything and anything.

It was time for her to be his rock.

* * *

"Nice place ya got here," Jimmy commented early the next morning as he glanced around the boat-shed, taking a seat in front of the TVs and glancing between the two partners.

Deeks and Kensi shared a look before taking the seats opposite him. It had been...odd in his apartment just over an hour earlier when the detective awoke and padded down the corridor only to find his partner camped out with Monty in the living room, clad in polka-dot pajamas, sitting cross-legged on his couch, a spoonful of cereal half-way to her mouth.

She merely raised her eyebrows in silent hello and continued eating. As did Monty, munching happily on his kibble at her feet as Deeks stared at the two of them, running a hand through his dishevelled hair and thanking all the deities that he managed to put on pajama pants before he crashed last night.

They'd barely spoken a word since then, the thoughtful actions of his partner remaining silently acknowledged but neither having the guts to voice it, to think about what it all meant. There was far too much going on as it were. With a shake of his head, Deeks forced himself to focus on the task at hand, promising himself there would be all the time in the world to dwell on his and his partner's evolving 'thing.'

"When we first met, you said you had a theory back when Fay first went missing that you couldn't prove?" Kensi spat him from his reverie as she dove right in, choosing to forgo pleasantries and get right to the point.

"I did...still do, never really could let it go," the ex-cop replied, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

"Care to share?" Deeks jumped in, mirroring him.

Woodruffe took a deep breath and nodded, seemingly making up his mind.

"Okay...well honestly, I never thought that Fay ran away. The fact that none of her clothes were missing, none of her personal affects gone just didn't add up. She was working a part-time job, the pay was crap at best and all she brought to the movies was her purse with no more than forty dollars in it. I interviewed both Will Jenkins and Tommy Maxwell the day after her disappearance and they both said the same thing. Jenkins left the movie theatre at 11:30pm because he had an early morning and Fay and Tommy hung back to wait on Fay's ride, her friend Alice that was going to pick her up at midnight. After convincing Tommy that she was fine and that he could go on home, he left her in the diner opposite the theatre. They only heard of her disappearance when Jenkins got a call at 2:30am from Fay's mother when she failed to come home."

Woodruffe paused to take a sip of water and the partners exchanged another silent glance.

"Okay so, if you thought she didn't run away, what did you think happened to her?" Kensi prompted, staring curiously at the ex-cop.

"I always thought she was murdered and I guess the M.E's report proves that. You said that her skull was fractured, detective?" he turned to Deeks questioningly.

"Yeah, I spoke to the coroner this morning, she said Fay suffered blunt-force trauma to the back of the skull consistent with being struck with a rounded object so, yeah, murder it is. Her name was released too so the press will be all over it by now," Deeks grumbled, not particular psyched at having an old friend's horrific ordeal plastered all over the papers and airways.

"What was your first impression of Tommy Maxwell?" he continued, casting his mind back to the fragile, shell of a man he met earlier that morning.

Woodruffe scratched his chin thoughtfully for a moment.

"Yeah, when I interviewed both Jenkins and Maxwell the first time, I don't know there was just something off about them. Tommy seemed like—"

"Someone was feeding him lines? Yeah, when I interviewed him this morning I got that feeling too. He was just...too rehearsed and when I showed him the pictures he almost fell apart," Deeks commented.

"Yeah," Woodruffe nodded, "he was a wreck back then too but not a murderous kinda wreck more of a distraught friend. Jenkins on the other hand? He was calm, almost too calm but I could never really pursue that line of questioning because well—" he broke off, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Because..." Deeks prompted, raising his eyebrows at his partner.

"Because his father was my Lieutenant," he finished with a grimace.

Deeks' mouth dropped open.

"Whoa, you're saying that the guy you think killed Fay is Alf Jenkins' kid?"

Woodruffe nodded grimly.

"He's far from a kid now Marty but yeah, that's what I think. Course, back then, I'd have to be crazy or wanting to commit career suicide if I even tried to suggest that he was involved in anything and I know, _I know_ what you're thinkin' but I had no concrete evidence and nothing to tie anyone to anything so there wasn't much else I could do without it lookin' like I was on a witch-hunt for my boss's son. I mean I followed other leads, none of which panned out and I tried everything else I could think of to try and find Fay but there just wasn't any..." the ex-cop heaved a heavy sigh, resting his chin on his clasped hands, eyes lowered.

"I'm not proud of it but...I didn't follow up my initial questioning on either of the guys even with my gut feeling telling me that the Jenkins boy was hiding something and that's something I just couldn't live with so I—I quit the force in '92 and tried to never look back but...this case...it has haunted me all these years..." he trailed off, dragging a hand across his eyes, shame set into his shoulders, before tilting his head at the partners.

Kensi caught Deeks' eye and nodded minutely.

"Well then," he replied resolutely, "I think it's about time we had a talk with Will Jenkins..."

* * *

"Here's good," Deeks jerked his head at the free space as his partner turned the wheel.

"You nervous?" Kensi arched an eyebrow at him as they pulled to a stop in the parking lot of Regina High School.

"Why would I be nervous?" he asked, his voice crackling a little as he took in the sight of his old school, it seeming to have frozen in time. Suddenly, he was 14 years old again and starting his first day of high school, he remembered the sweaty palms and the fake grin as if it were yesterday...it was disconcerting to say the least.

Kensi merely smirked at him and shook her head, suppressing a chuckle. She could only imagine what kinda high school student her partner was and judging by his face, Deeks was well on his way of remembering_ exactly _what kinda student he was.

"Come on superstar, take me down memory lane," she winked before jumping out of the car.

"Well, that was a proposition if I ever heard one," he grumbled under his breath before following her, slamming the door and shuffling along behind her.

"Oh my god, it's still here," Deeks breathed as they entered the school and walked down the deserted corridor.

"What?" Kensi asked, brow furrowed as she looked around her.

"The graffiti," he smirked, pointing at one locker to their left that had a faded gleam to it, a glossy 'M' sprawled Superman-style, shinning through the obviously fairly fresh coat of paint.

"See, I used this really strong gloss, it shines through practically everything," he beamed, clearly proud of his little bout of vandalism.

"You rebel," Kensi deadpanned, shaking her head at his ridiculous pride, "really Deeks? Superman?"

Deeks nodded with a grin.

"Yep, I was Superman, Ray was Robin and Andi was—"

"Oh you mean Bizzaro-Kensi?" the agent interrupted, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop herself.

Deeks snorted, turning to walk backwards, his shoulders shrugging as he smirked.

"Well Kens...technically I knew her first so, actually, you'd be Bizzaro-Andi," he quipped before turning on his heel and halting outside an office that had 'Principal W. Jenkins' printed on the door.

Kensi stopped dead in her tracks as those words hit her like the proverbial freight train. She didn't like the implication (however unintended on Deeks' part) at all. Shaking her head and silently berating herself for her ridiculous overreactions, she stepped over to join her partner outside the door.

Arching a questioning eye-brow at her sudden silence, Deeks cleared his throat and swung open the door, pushing down the perplexing feeling of dread that he once felt at being summoned to the principal's office.

Will Jenkins, slightly more rounded than Deeks remembered him, salt and pepper hair thinning a little on top, looked up from his desk with interest, phone glued to his ear, his chair tilted back as he scribbled something in a notebook.

"Okay, okay that's great," he held up a finger at the partners to halt their motions as they entered.

"Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh," he rambled animatedly as Kensi and Deeks rolled their eyes and waited impatiently, the detective's shoulders hunched in annoyance.

"Uh huh, yeah I get that but here's the thing buddy—hey!" he exclaimed loudly as Deeks leaned forward and placed his finger down on the button of the phone, effectively hanging up.

"Hey, hi there, I'm Detective Deeks, this is my partner here Kensi Blye, I believe you're expecting us," he smirked faux-politely before taking a seat and ignoring the wide-eyed gape that his partner threw in his direction.

"Just who the hell do you think you—"

"I told you who I am, I'm Detective Marty Deeks and I'm here about Fay Benson," he replied, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms.

Jenkins' mouth dropped open, his eyes darting from the agent to the detective and back again.

"You—you found her? Is she okay? When did she—"

"Her body was recovered two days ago about forty miles from here," Deeks interjected with a wave of his hand.

Jenkins swallowed deeply, his eyes downcast.

"Oh my god...poor Andi she—she never said anything. Wait...does she know?" his head snapped up, his mouth twisting.

"Yes, she's aware. Mr. Jenkins, can you go through the events of January 31st 1990? Starting from when you first saw Fay to when you last saw her?"

"I—it's all a blur really. I know we met up at the movie theatre at nine, me and Tommy..."

"Tommy Maxwell?" Kensi asked, leaning forward in the chair.

Jenkins nodded.

"We uh, we went to see Back to the Future 2 for like the third time I think...Fay always loved Michael J. Fox. She—she seemed on edge that night. I remember, I must have asked her a million times if she was okay, she was just too quiet you know? And then when her mom called me up at 2am and said she never made it home I—I immediately thought that she actually went through with it..." he trailed off, staring at his desk.

"Went through with what?" Deeks asked, mirroring his partner's seating position.

"Running away...she'd been threatening it for years. Her dad was unbearable, he was crazy overprotective, overbearing, wanted Fay to be the top in every class and be the perfect daughter that he could brag about to all his colleagues. The guy was a menace, made life hell for the entire family. And don't even get me started on what he'd get like when Fay disappointed him...I can only imagine what life must have been like for Andi after her disappearance...hey you don't think that he—" he cut himself off with a shake of his head, "no, no of course not. Jerry was a pushy parent, not a murderer."

Deeks caught Kensi's eye and they silently passed their opinions on Jenkins' trail of thought.

"Well, that's for us to determine. What made you leave Fay that night?" he questioned suddenly, changing topic with a raise of his eyebrow.

Jenkins cleared his throat, tugging at his tie.

"I did not leave her alone detective, she was with Tommy..."

"Until Tommy left her too," Deeks finished with a tilt of his head.

"Yeah well, that's probably something he regrets every day...I know I do—"

"Are you aware that Tommy has come forward and confessed to killing Fay?" the liaison interrupted suddenly, watching intently for his reaction.

A slow raise of the eyebrows were the only indication that Jenkins heard him.

"I—that must be why he didn't show up this morning..." he grumbled to himself as he wiped a hand across his brow.

"He turned himself in last night...copped to her abduction and murder in the early hours of February 1st 1990," Deeks continued, his eyes narrowing as they focused on Jenkins' emotionless face.

"Oh wow...that's—wow..." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice sounding a hell of a lot more shocked than his face looked.

Time to change topic again.

"Tell me Mr. Jenkins, what was your relationship like with Fay? Any trouble in paradise?" the detective questioned.

A hint of irritation passed over the principal's face.

"She was my high school sweetheart and I never stopped loving her...and I don't appreciate the implication of anything otherwise. Now if you'll excuse me I've a lot of work to do. If you've any more questions please direct them to my lawyer Detective Marty...Marty...where do I know that name..." Jenkins trailed off for a moment, eyes upturned in thought. Suddenly, a flash of recognition passed over his face.

"Oh! I remember you! You're that kid aren't you? That kid that shot his—"

"Thank you for your time Mr. Jenkins, if we've anymore questions we'll let you and _your lawyer _know," Kensi cut in with a faux-smile, nudging her partner's hip gently with her knuckle to edge him towards the door.

Deeks stiffened at her touch and Kensi withdrew her hand as if burned. With set shoulders, the detective unclenched his jaw and made his way out into the corridor, fists balled at his sides as they descended the corridor. Jenkins was every bit of a pompous, self-entitled asshole as he remembered.

"He was very quick to point at the father, barely blinked when we told him his oldest friend admitted to killing his girlfriend," his partner commented softly as she walked along beside him, her eyes darting to him.

"And lawyered up faster than we could say 'you're guilty Jenkins.' Yeah, I'm more convinced than ever," Deeks growled under his breath, "that guy definitely has something to hide."

* * *

Callen stared absentmindedly at his coffee cup as Sam grumbled softly to Eric. It had been quite the uneventful day, neither agent seeing hide nor hair of their colleagues, being informed by Hetty earlier that morning that neither Deeks nor Kensi would be in today due to the detective's involvement in the LAPD's case.

He knew what Kensi was trying to do of course, she was standing in unity with her partner, showing her support but she was an NCIS agent and had no jurisdiction, just like he and Sam and yet she was still allowed help Deeks. Callen was grateful she was there for the detective but he still felt at a loss...helpless that he couldn't do anything.

With another roll of his neck, his bones creaking loudly, Sam looked over from where he was standing at the TV with Eric and remarked:

"You really don't do idle well, do ya G?"

Callen's head snapped up and he stared at his partner for a moment before sighing.

"It's just...Deeks—"

"Yeah, I know," Sam interrupted, "but the LAPD shut us out and—"

Before Sam could finish that thought, Callen leapt out of his chair as if he'd been electrocuted, making a beeline for Eric who looked downright alarmed.

"Eric! Could you run a name for me?"

The tech operator frowned, looking to Sam and back to Callen.

"Uh...sure Callen. Who?"

Callen paused pensively for a moment, thinking over his theory for a moment before replying:

"The cop that first had the case. Sergeant James Woodruffe."

* * *

Nell Jones' fingers tapped rapidly across the keyboard as she dug file after file out from the virtual mass, decrypting and unsealing whatever files she could pertaining to the Fay Benson case. She was so engrossed in her work in fact, that she failed to notice the arrival of a certain petite brunette, not that she'd notice anyway, the woman was a frickin' ninja.

"Ms. Jones."

Nell jumped, utterly startled and whirled around to meet Hetty's gaze.

"Hetty," she acknowledged with a hand to her heart.

"Is there uh...anything I can do for you?" she asked politely as the woman continued to stare unwaveringly at her.

"As a matter of fact..." Hetty walked further into the room, fixing her with an odd expression, "Ms. Jones, you have gathered sensitive intel on one Gordon John Brandel before have you not?"

Nell nodded numbly, not knowing if she liked where this conversation was going.

"In that case, I would like you to dig up anything you can on Mr. Brandel and his life around the time of Ms. Benson's disappearance and subsequent murder..."

Nell gaped before swallowing nervously.

"Uh not—not to argue Hetty but uh...is that really wise I mean Deeks is kinda—"

"It's a worthy cause Ms. Jones. Mr. Deeks needs whatever help we can give him, and if that means either exonerating his father or proving his guilt than that's a risk we're going to have to take," Hetty interrupted before turning on her heel and walking out.

Nell watched her retreating back, a simultaneous feeling of her heart sinking into the depths of her stomach and bile rising in her throat.

* * *

"Hey, take the next left," Deeks instructed Kensi as they drove along downtown Los Angeles. His partner threw him a confused sideways glanced as she turned the wheel and began the decent down the familiar street.

"You think this is a good idea?" she asked, hoping that all could be heard in her tone was concern.

"She's working for the guy Kens...we gotta let her know he's a suspect," he argued, already opening the door before she came to a full stop.

"Should I...do you want me to stay here?" she asked, a hint of _something_ in her tone.

Deeks looked back around and caught her gaze, her tone penetrating his fraught emotional haze for a moment. Minutely, he shrugged, trying and failing to adopt a more blasé stature before he shook his head.

"Nah, come on in, don't want you baked and panting like a puppy in the hot sun."

She pursued her lips at him before stepping out of the car and walking along briskly beside him, across the street and halting at number 19, the bright red door gleaming in the sunshine.

Clenching and unclenching his fist Deeks raised his hand and knocked twice, rocking back on his heels, his hands clasped behind him. Kensi observed his changing behaviour with interest but before she could comment on it, the door crept open and Deeks took in a sharp breath that made her eyes spring to the woman standing in the doorway, not Andi, but an older version of her with grey hair and shinning hazel eyes.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked gently, her mouth turned downwards in a frown.

Deeks gawked at her for another moment before collecting himself, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of neck nervously.

"Hi, I don't know if you remember me but my name is Marty Deeks, I'm one of the detectives consulting on your daughter's case. I'm so very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Ben—"

The harsh sting of a slap to his left cheek effectively cut Deeks off from finishing that sentence.

The two partners merely gaped, the liaison rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand as Mrs. Benson began to spit angry words at him, each punctuated with venom, her hands flailing in their faces as she fixed Deeks with a downright vicious glare.

"Don't you waste your breath feeling sorry for me Martin Brandel! And yes, I remember you, how could I forget? You're the one with the murderer for a father; you should feel sorry for yourself! How dare you come here and darken my daughter's doorstep after all this time knowing that that monster did to Fay! And then to be 'consulting' in the case? Well, that's the biggest travesty of them all!"

"Mrs. Bens—"

"Get off my daughter's property now before I call the police," she warned, her tone as sharp as steel before she slammed the door in the still shocked faces of Deeks and Kensi.

They stood there, motionless on Andi's doorstep, nothing but silence passing between them. Kensi turned her head to observe her partner and her heart broke at what she saw. His shoulders were slumped, his head tilted down, his oddly shimmering eyes lowered to the ground. She winced when she saw the angry, red hand-print that marred his stubbled cheek.

With a bite of her lip, she decided to break the silence:

"Deeks—"

"Let's go, you heard her..." he grumbled lowly, his eyes still averted as he turned on his heel, stalking back to the car, climbing in and slamming the door behind him before Kensi could even blink.

She slowly made her way back over to him, her heart as heavy as her footsteps.

This day just got better and better.

* * *

A thumb pressed the decline button for the fifth time in a row as a sigh erupted from a thinly-lined mouth. Dark eyes studied light as they stared out the window, a foot jiggling impatiently on the floor.

When the cell-phone began to shrilly ring again, it was promptly slammed down on the table.

"You're gonna have to talk to her eventually," Kensi murmured gently, clasping her hands and placing them down beside his phone.

"You heard her mom," Deeks replied dejectedly, "she doesn't want me anywhere near—"

"She was upset Deeks, her daughter's body was just found after she was missing for twenty two years. I'm sure she didn't really mean—"

"She did. And I don't blame her. She had every right to be furious, she's not wrong. My father was a bastard and hell, despite what Woodruffe says, we still haven't completely proved his innocence and really, you wanna know what the worst thing is Kens? I'm not sure I want him to be proven innocent..." he trailed off, his voice crackling as he swerved into motion, pacing back and forth in the boatshed.

Kensi bit her lip as she watched him dart back and forth, back and forth, back and—

His phone began to ring again, vibrating across the table.

Kensi snatched it up and answered it before Deeks could move an inch.

"Detective Deeks' phone," she said politely as her partner scowled at her.

"Uh hang on," she lowered the phone from her ear slowly before offering it to him with an incomprehensible look on her face.

Deeks frowned and took it from her, starting to pace again as he spoke.

"Deeks..."

"You get a secretary Deeks? She sounds hot..." came a very familiar, very unwelcome voice.

The liaison's jaw clenched tightly.

"What do you want Harris?" he sighed, not in the mood for the detective's antics.

Kensi watched intently as he suddenly halted, his shoulders tensing.

"Uh huh, yeah, okay fine," he murmured before hanging up and turning around to catch his partner's eye.

"That was Harris, Bates wants me back at the station for a progress report...you can head back to Ops if you like? I'll meet you back there..." he trailed off, running a hand through his blond tresses.

Kensi knew a polite brush-off when she heard one. Even though she didn't like the idea of him going alone, she knew that the presence of an agent at the LAPD would be questioned (she barely got away with it that morning) and not wholly welcome, to say the least.

"Okay, sure, call me if you need me?"

She tried to smother the worry in her tone but didn't quite succeed. By the look of his face, Deeks was most certainly not looking forward to going back to the LAPD and really, after what happened with Andi's mother Kensi didn't think he could handle much more histrionics.

Here's to hoping they'd catch a break soon...

* * *

"I'm doing this to help Deeks, I'm doing this to help Deeks..." Nell Jones murmured over and over to herself as she clicked through endless police reports and Gordon John Brandel's incredibly long rap sheet.

After lacing through many 'drunk and disorderly' reports dating back to the early 60s, Nell decided to change tactics and branched out her search to more serious charges from the last two decades before Brandel's death.

Several red flags popped up as her search was hit with sealed records, at least a dozen of them. With a bite of her lip, she chanced a glance at the door before she used a couple of tricks that were a little less on the legal side than she would have preferred and began to slowly unseal them, all the time reminding herself that this was to help Deeks, her colleague and friend.

"I'm doing this for Deeks, I'm doing this for Deeks, I'm doing this for...oh my god..." she gasped as she read the through the first file, her eyes widening in horror as she drank in the image that accompanied it.

Her heart hammered in her chest uncomfortably as her slightly quivering hand scrolled down with the mouse, the images becoming more and more disturbing...and yet she was transfixed, her eyes glued to the screen in revulsion.

It was a can of worms she couldn't reseal. It was something she couldn't unsee, couldn't forget...

What the hell had she done?

* * *

With a roll of his shoulders to try and ease the rising tension that was knotting at the base of his neck, Marty Deeks took a deep breath and pushed through the doors of the station, keeping his head down as he made his way to Lieutenant Bates' office. It had been a long day, a tiring day and he wanted to get this 'progress report' over and done with as quickly as possible.

He knew of course, that it was more of a grilling than anything (he didn't have a clue what kind of strings Hetty must have pulled to get him on the case but whatever they were pissed off Bates royally and that spelled bad things for the liaison if he didn't thread lightly) and he wasn't looking forward to it.

Just as he made his way into the bullpen, something caught his attention that made him hang back and duck behind the wall, eyebrows furrowed as he overheard the conversation of Detective Harris, Kinney and oddly Logan Banks.

_What the hell is he doing here?_

"And I told him, Deeks...you can't do that man, I mean—"

"Yeah Deeks is always pulling dick moves like that," Detective Kinney interrupted Banks, "seriously, ever since he became a 'liaison' for those Naval assholes he's become even more of an annoying jackass. Practically any case we get nowadays he comes and hijacks it like he's a freakin' fed, I mean, did you see how he magically talked his way onto the Fay Benson case? Where there's no Navy affiliation and with his mysterious ties to a suspect—"

"Yeah, what are those ties exactly Banks? We never did get the full story..." Harris interjected, raw curiosity colouring his tone.

"Well," Banks began and even though Deeks couldn't see him he could hear his smug grin, "Deeks has a bit of a...chequered past. Let's just say that crime is in his blood...he would have made a decent defense lawyer for a certain kind of clientele, if he wasn't so much of a bleeding heart. And yeah, he was okay once upon a time, a little undisciplined but okay. But his sob story past always coloured his actions and it got real old real fast, trust me.

"I knew from day one that he didn't belong in a court room with the rest of us, he never had the right etiquette for it so when he outta the blue decided he wanted to leave and become a cop I can't say I was too broke up about it. He never said why he wanted to be a cop, it was all a bit random to me, but a guy like him never really fits in anywhere really, especially back then, he was a little too uh...well, I won't say damaged but—"

Deeks' blood boiled in his veins, red-hot fury flowing through his entire body. Before he could stop himself, he was storming over to where the detectives and lawyer sat, coffee cups and pizza boxes littering their desks, effectively cutting off whatever else Banks was going to say with folded arms and a pointed glare.

"Oh hey Banks, don't stop on my account. What were you gonna say buddy? I'm not damaged but...?"

The lawyer's mouth dropped open in shock, gaping like a fish as he struggled and failed to produce words.

"You know, it's funny..." Deeks began with a humourless laugh, "I worked three jobs to put myself through law school and when I finally got there I still had to take crap from pricks like you who thought they were above the rest of us because you had money. But really, it was my own fault I mean, like you said, who the hell did I think I was anyway? I was nothing more than a damaged child from a broken home and had no business being anything more than that.

"I had no right to ever aspire to be anything else, do anything else with my life. What the hell did I know about being rich and successful like you? What did I ever do that was worth a damn? That merited standing beside the likes of you in a court room huh? Apparently nothing! So you wonder why I became a cop? I'll tell you why, to protect the innocent from the scum of the earth that people like you represent. That's why."

Without realizing it, Deeks had gotten right up into Banks' face, clutching the collar of his shirt in one fist and poking him in the chest with the other.

"Whoa Deeks, relax man he—"

"Mind your own business Harris, this doesn't concern you," the liaison growled, his glare never faltering from Logan's (now very fearful) face. He could feel many eyes burning holes into him but he didn't care, he just leaned forward and hissed:

"So tell me Banks, why did you become a lawyer huh? To please Mommy? To make Daddy proud? Or was it so you could make a buck on every criminal that you let back onto the streets of Los Angeles? Yeah...that sounds about right..." he trailed off for a moment before catching Harris' eyes, "and really, you're hanging out with a bunch of cops? I thought the blue collar types were beneath you, or is it just guys like me that are beneath you?"

The lawyer continued to gape, inaudible words falling from his lips.

"Come on Deeks; stop being so sensitive man..." Kinney stepped forward and gripped his shoulder but Deeks' hand jumped out and shoved him roughly away, so rough in fact that it caused the man to stumble back into the desk, his back bouncing off it with a loud thump.

"This is none of your business either Kinney," the liaison growled, his other hand tightening on Banks' collar, pulling him in closer as he spat, venom dripping from every syllable, "so tell me Banks, how long was I gone before you—"

Suddenly, Deeks was shoved to the side as a heavy weight leapt on him, tackling him into the wall, smashing his face into a framed picture of the old chief shaking hands with a senator.

"Kinney, stop! He's not worth it," Harris sprung forward, pulling his partner off the liaison.

Deeks' jaw clenched as he straightened up, his eyes falling on the now shattered frame of the photograph. Attentively, he reached up to his left cheek and was shocked to find that it was wet. Slowly, he lowered his fingers and found that they were stained crimson. He was bleeding.

Taking deep breaths, his more rational side pleaded with him to keep his cool, not waste his time and energy on these idiots. Wiping the back of his hand across his cheek, he stepped back over to the man he once called a friend and glared down into his dark eyes, hoping that his nonverbal message was being well received. But it seemed Banks had found his backbone and glared right back, opening his mouth, pointed words tumbling from his lips.

"What're you gonna do now Marty?" his asked quietly, for their ears only as his voice was barely above a whisper when they regarded each other, "you gonna hit me like your father hit you?"

The last syllable had barely left his mouth before Deeks lunged forward, his body acting on autopilot, ignoring the screams of protest from both his mind and the numerous cops around him, grabbing a fistful of Banks' shirt and—

"DEEKS!" a furious yell halted his motions, his fight fist suspended in the air, Banks' face screwed up in anticipation, his eyes clamped shut.

The detective's mouth dropped open and he released Logan immediately, his hands shaking as he stumbled back and looked up towards the voice that yelled his name.

Lieutenant Bates' livid face was a not-so-welcome surprise.

"My office. Now."

The room was plunged into silence as Deeks shuffled past the men and many other of his colleagues, head hung lowly as he entered Bates' office and shut the door behind him with a snap, standing stock still and waiting, ignoring the trickle of blood that had pooled at the nape of his neck.

"Attacking a defense attorney on our turf? Have you lost your mind Deeks?" Bates yelled, his arms slashing through the air as he paced back and forth.

"Badge and gun, now," he halted suddenly, holding out his hand.

"But—"

"I knew it was a mistake allowing you to consult on this case...but that damn woman..." he trailed off a moment before taking another step toward the liaison, "as of now you're off this case, suspended until further notice. Now I'll ask one more time, badge and gun..."

Deeks grit his teeth and shoved them into his hands before whirling around, storming out and slamming the door behind him, ignoring the leers and smug smirks that followed him every inch of the way...

* * *

Henrietta Lange heaved a soft sigh as she stared down at a file on her desk. Entwined-fingers pressed to a thin mouth as she thought back over the conversation she had had with Detective Bates not an hour before. A pit of worry simmered low in her stomach as he informed her of the events that occurred, the worst of what she feared had apparently come to pass.

Mr. Deeks was not handling the situation well.

With a soft sigh, she glanced up to find the detective that occupied her thoughts to be right in front of her, head hung low as he shuffled into the bullpen, finding it to be empty and standing motionless at his desk, seemingly staring off into space.

Before Hetty could get up from her desk and approach him, the liaison shook his head and made his way towards the gym, his body still the epitome of defeat, sadness and despair. It was not a look he wore well.

He could feel the hawk-like-eyes boring into his back as he made his way into the gym but he ignored them steadily, not particularly in the mood for another life lesson or lecture or riddle, wrapped in an enigma shrouded in mystery from the infamous Henrietta Lange. It had been a hell of a day, far too long and distressing by anyone's standards and right now all he wanted to do was hit something hard, and for a long period of time until his knuckles bled and his fingers grew numb. And hey, if he was envisioning Logan Banks' face the entire time, so be it.

The detective stopped in his tracks as he saw three very familiar figures in the middle of the gym, two sparring and the other sitting on the bench, cell-phone in hand.

"Deeks," his partner acknowledged, pocketing her phone and standing up, her brow furrowing as she drank in his marred face.

"What happened?" she asked, her tone drenched with concern, her teeth edging out to chomp on her lower lip as her polychrome eyes raked over his skin, inch by discoloured inch, halting on the long, crimson gash across his cheek.

"I'm fine," he murmured, stepping past her and over to where Callen and Sam stood clad in protective helmets and gloved hands.

"That wasn't my question," she grumbled, following him, arms folded as he began to wrap his hands and don a pair of gloves.

"I got the winner," he announced just as Callen swung at Sam, his glove hitting the side of Sam's helmet, knocking him to the ground.

"You're on," the team-leader nodded, before offering a hand down to his partner. Sam took it with a scowl on his face, pulling himself up before he went to stand beside Kensi who watched on with a frown as Deeks stepped closer to Callen, each bumping fists before circling each other.

"So Deeks, there's been something I wanna ask you..." he started softly as Deeks threw his left hook and he dodged it swiftly.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" he asked as Callen retaliated with a right hook that met nothing but air.

"Sergeant James Woodruffe...how long you know him?"

Deeks shrugged, delivering a blow to Callen's side, a little harder than was absolutely necessary.

"Met him back when I was a kid, why?" he asked, a hint of suspicion seeping into his tone.

"And did he ever talk to you about the Fay Benson disappearance back then?" Callen retaliated with a glove to Deeks' shoulder.

"Nope," he replied, ignoring the dull ache in his shoulder and blocking the next blow easily.

Kensi and Sam watched intently as their partners sparred, a little more aggressively than any of them were used to. On the surface, it may have looked like just like a more intensive mode of training but they knew better. There was something else going on here, they could feel the undercurrents in the conversation – it sizzling between the two men as they circled one another, they gazes locked as they exchanged words back and forth with the occasional strategic move thrown in.

"So what, now he just shows up twenty-two years after the fact, outta the blue and offers his services? How did he even know about the body? How did he know it was Fay Benson if that wasn't released to the press yet? I mean, who is this guy Dee—"

Deeks swung a right hook, catching Callen in the ribs, more of a push than a punch. The team-leader took a step back, tensing, apparently sensing that he'd hit a nerve.

"Jimmy Woodruffe is a good man. I've known him since I was a kid, he bought me a hotdog once," Deeks grumbled and Kensi couldn't hide the look of surprise on her face. Her partner hadn't let on that he actually completely remembered the detective, hadn't offered up information to him or her for that matter.

"He—"Deeks cleared his throat, "he would come to my house every once in a while and talk with me and my mom and—"

"People change, Deeks," Callen interrupted, weight and wisdom laced in his words. "I mean, this whole case reeks of corrupt cop. Do you know that he never did a follow-up on either Jenkins or Maxwell? I mean, I'm not a cop but that seems pretty standard detective work. And Eric dug up some of his financials and—"

"Wait, just who's on trial here Callen? The suspects or the cops?" Deeks halted completely, glaring at his colleague.

"What if they're one in the same?" the agent asked, standing still too, meeting the blond's glare, "there are things about your friend you don't know, you gotta face that Deeks—"

"Hey, I think I've heard this song before...I just...can't remember where..." he tapped his chin with his glove theatrically before taking them off and throwing them to the floor, clicking his fingers, "oh yeah, when Ray was in town. Do you have it out for all my friends Callen or just the—

"I was right though Deeks, Ray was hiding something from you—"

"Yeah the mother of his unborn child, last time I checked that wasn't a criminal offense...neither is having a few gambling debts, but please, if you learned a different set of laws than me Counsellor Callen feel free to correct me."

Callen frowned, looking pensive.

"How do you know Woodruffe has gambling debts?"

Deeks rolled his eyes.

"I know you guys forget this sometimes but I am a detective and am perfectly capable of doing a background check. Contrary to popular belief I'm not a complete moron," he snapped, bending down to grab a bottle of water and taking a large gulp.

Callen shook his head and folded his arms as the liaison put down his drink and straightened up, chin tilted indignantly.

"But that's all I found. Woodruffe is completely clean, a decorated ex-cop who—"

"Look Deeks, you can ignore this all you want but...did you never think why Woodruffe dropped the investigation so quickly?" Callen asked, taking a minute step towards him, ridding himself of his gloves too.

"What?"

"It adds up, he had gambling debts...he may not be directly involved in the murder but maybe someone paid him off?"

"What are you basing this on exactly, Colonel Mustard?" Deeks asked, an angry line forming between his eyebrows.

"On deductive reasoning and facts Deeks, which is what you should be doing...but you're not, because you're too close to this." Callen replied lowly but firmly, very aware of the rising tension in the room.

"What the hell does that mean?" the liaison growled, hands on his hips, staring the agent down as he stepped even closer to him.

"What happened to your face?" Callen asked, halting two feet from his colleague, looking pointedly at Deeks' left cheek.

"I—"

"Let me guess, one of the guys from LAPD said the wrong thing and you snapped?" he asked, it sounding a little more like a statement rather than a question. He knew that was what happened, had seen it coming a mile off and felt for the detective, he'd been there once, twice, a few times. Tackling your demons was never easy.

Deeks' silence spoke volumes.

"And Lieutenant Bates called Hetty...said you've been suspended. See what I mean? You're too close to this. You should just—"

"I should what, Callen, huh? Forget about the case? About everything that Fay went through—"

"What you went through."

"What?" Deeks breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as they stared silently at each other.

"You—you want me to forget..." he trailed off, a humourless chuckle erupting from his chest, "ha, you don't get it do ya Callen? That's the one thing I can't do! It's funny though isn't it? You can't remember your father and I can't forget mine...not for lack of trying I'll tell ya that," he snorted, rubbing the back of his neck and catching his partner's eye for a moment.

Kensi attentively took a step forward, edging a little closer to him, her hand rising in a nonverbal sign that he should calm down. Deeks just turned his head away, growing more agitated with every passing second, the events of the day weighing down on his shoulders as he stepped ever closer to Callen.

"I gotta say though, you're being a lot more hypocritical than usual lately. How'd you like it if I told you to forget about your past huh? How'd you like it if I brought up something incredibly painful about your life only to brush it off like it was nothing? Like if I said well, sure maybe I did have a crappy childhood but at least I know what the 'M' in my name stands for...G."

Callen's jaw tightened at Deeks' not-so-subtle dig as Kensi audibly gasped and Sam's entire body tensed.

"I'd say..." Callen began evenly, "that you are letting this case get to you and that you're lashing out at the people that are trying to help you because you're in pain and not dealing with it, probably have never dealt with it since you were a kid. I would say that it's not your fault that you had a crappy childhood but you still shouldn't let it affect your professionalism..."

Deeks snorted at that, finding what he just said to be one of the most incredibly hypocritical things Callen had ever said, considering the entire Chameleon debacle but before he could voice these thoughts, the agent continued:

"You should talk to someone. Because really Deeks, if you start down that road alone, there may be no return and you could repeat the mistakes of your father."

It was if a switch had been flipped in the liaison and all the pain, worry, anxiety and anger from the last few days, months, years pooled into his chest and reared its ugly head as he grit his teeth and fought to control the fury that threatened to engulf him.

Suddenly, it wasn't Callen that was standing before him, it was Banks, with his leering, smug face, criticizing his abilities as a lawyer, questioning his career change, comparing him to his father just like that and before he could stop himself, it was all too much...

Deeks smashed his fist into his face, envisioning that it was Banks that faltered, it was Banks that stared up at him with a mixture of shock and confusion and it was Banks that held up his hands to guard himself from the flurry of pain that flowed straight from Deeks' soul right down into his fist that connected roughly with his shoulder.

"Deeks! Stop!" a voice screamed around them but all he could hear was his frantic heartbeat thumping in his ears.

Suddenly, a shock of pain pierced his jaw, as a fist collided with it and he stumbled back a little, clutching his face. The dull ache spat him from his trance as his eyes darted to his left.

As he stared down at Callen sitting on the floor, with his reddened, swollen and cut cheek, his face suddenly morphed from Banks into an image of a younger blond boy, his skin tinged purple with bruises, his sky-blue eyes firmly shut, tears rolling down his swollen cheek as a tall, blond, furious man towered over him, his clenched fist raised to strike, again and again until little Marty learned his lesson...

Deeks staggered back, horrified, a shiver rattling him from head to toe as the frightened little boy dissolved back into his colleague, into a grown man breathing heavily, his gleaming eyes fixed on the detective.

"I...I..." he gaped, his eyes darting from Callen to Sam to Kensi (whose eyes were shining brightly with shock, her mouth hung open) shocked and numbed and appalled at what just happened.

"Deeks..." Kensi stepped forward, reaching out to touch his shoulder but he shrugged it off, looking startled, his eyes widened, hands shaking.

"I—I gotta go," he stuttered, stumbling towards the door and whirling around, his brain firing a mile a minute as he searched for Hetty, who wasn't at her desk. _Where is she, where is she, where is she!_

He thundered up the stairs like a bolt of lightening, aware that his partner and colleagues were hot on his heels and stormed into Ops, startling the Nell, who jumped as if she'd been electrocuted, scrambling to click off the image from the large screens but just that second too slow.

Deeks halted, his feet glued to the floor as his glimmering eyes flickered over the vast screen, his mouth gaping wordlessly, his head tilted back.

Kensi, Sam and Callen stopped in the doorway too as the room plunged into silence, three pairs of eyes glancing from the liaison to the screen, only to stare in horror at the image that was suspended on the screen.

"What...how..." Deeks breathed as he drank in the sight of the blond boy, no more than eleven years old, one familiar blue eye swollen almost completely shut, his right cheek tinged purple and blue, his shoulders and arms visibly scathed, his clothes grubby and torn.

"I—I'm sorry I—" Nell leaned forward to rid the image from the screen but Deeks leapt into motion.

"No! No! Leave it, I mean, you clearly took the time to unseal my private medical records and police reports so why should your efforts go to waste?" he asked, his tone eerily calm as his foot began to jitter nervously across the floor.

"Deeks I—"

"So...what intelligence did you gather, analyst? Tell me, do I have classic broken child syndrome or PTSD or—" he broke off with a shake of his head, the words dying in his throat as he struggled to catch his breath, his eyes stinging unbearably.

Suddenly, a wet trail began a decent from his cheek. As he reached up to catch the blood, he found as he looked down at his wet fingers that the liquid was clear, not crimson in colour.

"Mr. Deeks..." the voice of Hetty wafted in the room but he refused to reply, trying and failing to quell the quivering of his hands.

With a sniff, the detective gave another shake of his head, wiping at the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand before glancing back up more my time at the pale, harrowed, haunted little boy on the screen.

He could feel his partner edge closer and closer to him as he felt another shiver engulf his body but he just ignored her, ignored everyone including the newly arrived Eric and began backing quickly out of the room, his head hung low.

"I—I'm suspended from the LAPD until further notice so my assistance is no longer needed here," he grumbled before swallowing deeply and turning on his heel, practically sprinting away.

"Deeks? Deeks!" Kensi yelled, beginning to take off after him, only for Callen to catch her wrist.

"Let him go Kens, he needs to—"

"What he needs is for his friends not to deliberately aggravate him," she growled, wrenching her wrist away from him, her glare intensifying as she looked around the room.

"I mean seriously, what the hell were you thinking comin' at him like that Callen? Deeks isn't a suspect or an ex-con, he's our friend, colleague and he's gone through enough, especially today without all of this shit! And what the hell is this anyway, Nell?" she whirled around, gesturing to (but not looking at, she doesn't think she'd ever be able to look at it again) the file and image of Deeks badly beaten as a young boy.

"It's—Hetty asked me to look into Gordon John Brandel again to try and find—"

"Wait, again?" Kensi asked, tilting her head to Hetty who remained silent.

"I—"

"You knew?" the agent asked suddenly, "you knew about Deeks' past? About...about what Brandel did to him? How much have you dug into our pasts Nell?"

Nell gaped at Kensi as her mismatched eyes threw sharp daggers at her, clearly pissed at the invasion of privacy and overwhelmed by everything that her partner endured.

"That's enough, Ms. Blye," Hetty interjected with her calm tone.

Kensi's head jerked down to meet Hetty's eyes, their steel never diminishing.

"Yeah, yeah you're right, it is," she agreed, her tone hard, her body rigid before she stalked out of the room and after her partner, never giving as much as a backwards glance.

Hetty had a point. Enough was enough. Deeks had gone through enough. Now was time for it all to stop, for him to take the time to try and recover from everything...if he could.

And she would be there for him, every step of the way.

* * *

The loud thump of chair being kicked to the floor reverberated through the apartment as the weary detective ran a hand through his flaxen, matted locks, a groan on his lips. Leaning down, he righted the chair he bowled over in frustration before storming over to the fridge and grabbing a beer.

Twisting the cap off, he took a long, deep gulp, wiping the back of his hand across his face before wincing at the motion. From the slap from Mrs. Benson, to the tackle from Kinney to the right hook from Callen, his left cheek had taken quite the beating today.

He frowned as that thought flowed through his brain, his mind automatically conjuring up the image that was glued to the screen in Ops of his eleven year old self, marred with cuts and bruises, posing for one of the worst photographs he'd ever take after one of the most terrifying nights he'd ever lived through in all his years.

All because his father was a drunk. A drunk with a gun who thought his wife was cheating.

Heaving his aching, tired body down on the couch, the detective looked to the six-pack of beer sitting on his table and scrunched up his nose in disgust. He knew it didn't solve anything, knew it was what made his father...what he was and yet he sat here, doing the exact same.

With a shake of his head he shoved it away, standing up and depositing the beer in his hand in the trash-can by the TV and deciding to just go to bed, sleep away the rest of this horrible day.

As he made his way to his bedroom, he stumbled into something on the floor. With a frown, he looked down at his feet and almost smiled at what he saw. It was Kensi's go-bag, her fluffy, purple slippers peeking out from the top. As he bent down to pick it up, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror and froze.

His face looked worse than he expected, an angry, jagged cut across his swollen and bruised cheek, the corner of his bottom lip split. Suddenly, he was catapulted back to the night when he shot his father and he was inspecting himself in the hospital mirror as his mom got checked over by a doctor. Tears welled up behind his eyes as he blinked rapidly, trying desperately to quell those thoughts, memories as he slowly reached up to his mouth and wiped at the caked blood that formed there and—

"Deeks? Deeks!" a voice called, interrupting him, a series of frantic knocks echoing through the door.

He knew it was only a matter of time before she showed up. He wasn't sure if he would be good company right now, but if he knew Kensi Blye (and he did) she wouldn't take no for an answer. Taking a deep breath, he trudged over to the door and unlocked it, slowly edging it open, still not able to look her in the eye.

Kensi held back a gasp, her eyes as wide as saucers when he came into view and she got a first glimpse of the physical damage he sustained today. As if involuntarily, her hand reached up, her fingers an inch from his face as they ghosted around the jagged cut, a whisper between their skin as his shimmering eyes met her soft ones.

Slowly, as if they were engaged in an odd, silent dance, he walked backwards as she stepped forwards, closing the door with her heel. She was leading, her fingers lowering from the air an inch from his cheek to brush, feather-light onto his forearm, nudging him towards the bathroom.

Their eyes never faltered from each other as his back connected gently into the closed door. With a soft smile, she leaned forward, reaching a hand around him, pressing up lightly against him as she turned the handle. Deeks fought not to stumble as the door gave way and they crossed the threshold.

Kensi quirked her eyebrow at him as she clasped his arm gently and stirred him to the sink cabinet.

"Sit," she ordered gently, pulling open drawers and doors, rifling through their contents as if she owned the place.

Deeks watched her with interest for a moment before obeying, hopping up onto the cabinet and swinging his legs back and forth as his partner whizzed around his bathroom, gathering supplies.

"Kens, I'm fine real—"

"Save it," she murmured, shuffling back to him, her arms laden with cloths and cotton balls and lotions and potions and various other creams he either hadn't seen in a while or vehemently deny ever had a home in his bathroom cabinet.

Gently, she deposited the bottles beside Deeks and turned on the faucet, filling the sink with warm water and submerging a cloth. Her partner watched on intently, transfixed on her slender hands wading through the water for a moment.

"Now this..." she began, wringing out the cloth and turning to him, "might sting a little," she finished before stepping even closer and pressing the cloth gently to his cheek, wiping softly at the cut.

Deeks grimaced a little but just kept his eyes on his partner's that were busy focusing on the task at hand, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip, something she always did when she was deep in concentration.

"So..." he murmured, as she patted around the cut, "on a scale of one to ten, how pissed is Callen?"

"Eleven," she replied without missing a beat.

"Awesome," he cleared his throat, shame rising in his chest as he reflected on his actions.

"No, I mean he's...I was talking to Sam on the way over here. Callen's pissed at himself, knows he pushed you too far and feels shit about it. Apparently, he's having some one to one time with the punch-bag," she tried to reassure him, sensing his shift in mood as his entire body tensed under her touch.

"He...he has every right to be pissed I—Kens he's got a point. I—I did snap today, not once but twice...I lunged at Banks and would have punched his lights out if Bates hadn't have interrupted," he admitted grimly, the sense of shame growing larger and larger, an intense mix of guilt and dread morphing together in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm sure he had it coming," she commented gently but apparently that was the wrong thing to say as he jerked back, away from her, his eyes shining with a sharp gleam.

"That doesn't excuse my actions though Kens. I—I should have never...I really am no better than he was..." he whispered, his throat tightening as if he were being strangled.

Kensi stepped even closer until his knees were either side of her, still wiping at his cheek as he continued, words tumbling from his lips, words he kept a tight lid on for over two decades, slipping from him like cascades of water, nothing but his words and the occasional droplets dripping from the faucet filling the small room.

"And I—sometimes I have these dreams that I do...the things he did back then and when I wake up for one terrifying moment I think – am I like him? Is that who I am? But after a while, when my heart slows back down and I wipe the sweat from my face, I remember what I do, what I have been doing the greater part of my life and I think I know that—"

"You're nothing like him," Kensi whispered, leaning up to him, her hand cupping his cheek, gently tilting his face in her direction.

"Look at me Deeks," she ordered quietly, edging his face the last few inches until they were level. Slowly, her partner looked up, his wide eyes shining softly in the moonlight, the window to his soul completely open to her for the first time – revealing everything he felt, anger, fear, pain...and something else, just a little something behind it all, something warm and gentle and just for her.

"Trust me partner," she continued, her voice still soft but with a trace of firmness as she dropped the cloth and reached up with her other hand to cup his other cheek, her two-toned eyes boring into his, "you are a lot of things, funny, smart, charismatic, and even a little bit of a show-off," she paused as they both shared a soft grin, "but most of all, you're gentle, sweet and the kindest man I have ever known. You are as far away from Gordon John Brandel as you can possibly get...and don't let anything or anyone convince you otherwise or you'll be answering to me, got it?"

He nodded gently, quietly horrified as a trickle of tears trailed down from the corner of his eyes. Kensi's face blurred as he fought to clear his misty vision but what he could see plainly was the twist of her mouth, the worry line between her eyebrows as she let out a tiny gasp and began mumbling, "hey, hey," before she stood up on her tip-toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him to her.

With a twist of his mouth, he shook his head, his arms coming to rest at her waist as he let his eyes close, forcing down the emotion that fought so hard to break free after being pent up for so long. All he wanted to do was let go, to stop struggling with the demons that haunted his past, and now that he had, even just a little and in the presence of his partner, he felt a little of the weight that anchored his soul, lighten just a little bit.

"Come on...you need some sleep," she murmured into his neck, her breath bouncing off his skin and caught a little thrill to flow up his spine.

The fact that he made no joke about wanting to 'sleep' with her or asking if that was some sort of 'invitation' really spoke volumes about the kind of place Deeks' head was at right then. Slowly, she stepped back, her hand finding his as he jumped down from the cabinet and stood motionless, seemingly waiting for her to lead again.

"Just one more thing," she held up a small band aid between her thumb and index finger. He nodded and she stepped close to him again, sticking the band-aid just over the jagged cut before standing back to admire her handy-work.

Light eyes met dark and Kensi was pleased to see that the sadness had lifted from his gaze somewhat, she never, not for as long as she lived, wanted to see them be that dejected, that dim, ever again...

"Come on," she stepped out of the bathroom backwards, letting him lead them in their silence dance this time.

"Can we uh...can we just hang out here for a while? I—I'm not tired," he half-whispered, walking past her to the couch, not wanting to let her know that he just wasn't ready to be alone with his thoughts.

"Yeah, sure," she nodded, plonking down beside him and patting the chair for Monty to come sit beside him.

The dog (apparently sensing the shift in mood) wagged his tail happily and plonked his head on Deeks' knee, comforting him in his own way as Kensi sat down on his other side, already flicking though the TV channels and kicking off her shoes.

Deeks heaved a deep sigh, rubbing his palms on his knees as she left it on an old rerun of CHiPs. Just as he fidgeted, his hands still in motion, she caught his right hand with her left, her eyes never leaving the screen, just squeezing it gently and shuffling a little closer to him on the couch, offering him a bag of chips (her sense of humor still needed work) that she got from god knows where.

"I'm here," she said gently, her grasp tightening a little, "I'm here..."

He nodded, his cheek coming to rest on the top of her head. Her words (that were so much more than just that) washing over him, a comforting heat rising in his chest.

"Yeah..." he smiled softly, his eyes flickering down to their intertwined hands, "I know..."

And they stayed there for a long time, and this time it was he that fell asleep on her shoulder, having what must have been the first pleasant dream he'd had in days, weeks, hell, he couldn't remember when.

The case may still be there in the morning, his demons too, but at least now, at least for one night, he didn't have to fight them alone.

**A/N: 14,314 WORDS! I'M SO SORRY! Hope it was worth the wait!**

**I know that was incredibly harrowing and emotional and exhausting but it had to be done. I hope you guys have enough energy left to review because I'd really appreciate it. It's one of the hardest things I've ever had to write (emotionally speaking) and would love some feedback :)**

**And yeah, I listened to A LOT of Coldplay during this so...yeah. And I apologize profusely if there are any mistakes.**

_**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**_

"_**I never really believed in true love."**_

"_**Oh yeah, what changed your mind?" the ex-cop asked, following his gaze as Deeks' eyes flickered over to where his partner stood talking to Eddie.**_

"_**Ah...I see, "Jimmy smirked knowingly, "it was your girl over there."**_

" _**What?" he gaped, " Kensi's not my girl."**_

"_**And with that attitude she never will be."**_

**PS: Oh and if you guys are wondering what Andi would look like etc. me and **_**SuperDensi427**_** discussed this at length and came to the conclusion that if 'that girl' that Ray thinks Kensi looks like ever was on the show, she should be played by Missy Peregrym. So yeah, that's who I picture when I think of Andi, which is funny because Missy played an Andi/Andy in two different TV shows haha XD**

**Please Review!**

**~Cortexikid**


	25. Peccability AKA 'Deeks, M' Part IV

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 25: Peccability AKA 'Deeks, M' Part IV**

**A/N: YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR WONDERFUL REVIEWS! :D **

**Again, big thanks to SuperDensi427 for all the advice and help on this storyline and all the encouragement – the epitome of awesome!**

**And now...part IV/IV phew! This 'Deeks, M' series truly was one of the hardest things I've ever written and I'm blown away by the response, thank you all so much, from the bottom of my heart! Really, I'm so grateful!**

**There will be a couple of chapters following this that will deal with the aftermath of this storyline – its affect on Deeks and the team etc. so even though this is the end of the 'Deeks, M episode' the events will cause a ripple effect for a number of chapters to come.**

**Disclaimer: Considering I don't have two coins to rub together, I can gather two things, one, I'm not the owner of NCIS: LA, and two, college fees suck big-time :/ **

**WARNING: CONTAINS DARK THEMES! AND IS INCREDIBLY LONG SO PLEASE TAKE BREAKS IF/WHEN NEEDED :)**

* * *

**WOTD: PECCABILITY; ****Pec****·****ca****·****bil****·****it****·****y ****_noun._**** Short-coming, weakness, flaw, liability to sin**

Soft rays on sunlight shone down onto his eyelids, causing a crease to form between his eyebrows, his mind and body determined to stay well in slumber, not quite ready to face the day yet. But unfortunately, like all good things, his pleasant dream came to an end and Marty Deeks was slowly jogged into consciousness, the first thing registering in his groggy mind being that his pillow appeared to be breathing. Next came the jackhammer that was doing construction-work in his head, then the sound of something like a small animal hibernating and last but certainly not least, the feeling of a soft, warm..._something_ beneath him, the source of the inhaling and exhaling movement.

With a frown, his heavy eyelids crept open and were surprised to see his TV in the immediate vicinity. Funny, he didn't remember falling asleep in his living room and holy crap that pillow was not a frickin' pillow!

Deeks gaped as his eyes glued to the body of Kensi Marie Blye who was snort-snoring quietly as she lay sprawled out on his couch, one hand firmly resting on his forearm with the other flung comfortably above her head, seeming perfect content with him using her chest and torso as his own personal mattress.

_Not good. Not good. Not good._

_Awesome. Awesome. Awesome._

Apparently he was in two minds about his current position, literally.

With a bite of his lip, he couldn't help but take a quiet moment to drink in the sight of his partner, her face soft as she slept, her chest rising and falling steadily as she breathed her little snort-snore. He fought the urge to sweep a tendril of her chestnut hair off her forehead, a soft smile gracing his face as he heard her mumble something in her sleep, shifting slightly, entangling her feet with his.

He always thought the idea of watching someone sleep was slightly creepy but this was different, Kensi was different. She really was fascinating (awake and asleep), something about the way in which she looked, eyes closed, mind adrift in slumber, he couldn't quite place it. Her face held a...peacefulness, a calm, dare he say_ almost _an innocence. He suppressed a snort at that thought, Kensi Marie Blye, innocent?

With a silent chuckle, he rolled his eyes before letting them wander the contours of her face. This was the third time (the first being the undercover assignment when they were Justin and Melissa and the second being the night when she fell asleep on his shoulder) he'd consciously done it and really, every time he discovered something new about her. Like right now he realized that despite her constant protests and her somewhat spread-eagle nature when sleeping on ops, she did have a more cuddly side, if her soft grip on his forearm and her leg hooked around his was any indication.

Deeks couldn't help the soft smile that sprang to his face every time he gazed down at her. Even now, after everything he went through, he couldn't suppress it, couldn't ignore it, and despite knowing wholeheartedly that a smile was the furthest thing from his mind this morning, he was glad it was there. Glad she had yet again made the little glimmer of hope spring in his chest, the trickle of something akin to contentment settling in his stomach. And she didn't even have to do anything. Not really. Her mere presence this morning, and certainly the night before, spoke volumes. He really had no idea how he would ever thank her...

Just as he was beginning to form a couple of ideas, his partner shifted, her eyebrows furrowing against the soft rays of sunshine that escaped through the slit in the curtains. With a deep breath, she creaked her neck and rose the hand above her head even higher, stretching her body slightly. The detective swallowed deeply and tried to frantically think of a way to reposition his body to make it seem like he'd been asleep, totally not on top of her the entire time, but it was too late.

"You know, I'm in that percentage that think watching people sleep is creepy," she murmured without opening her eyes.

Deeks shook his head in amusement, before (regretfully) sitting up off her a little, but not too much.

"Well, it's not like I had anything else to do, Squidward."

A sliver of one dark eye peeked up at him as she cracked open a lid and stared at him in confusion.

"Squidward?"

"Uh, yeah, 'cause you're an octopus," he grinned sheepishly.

"Squidward is a squid, not an octopus, hence the name."

"Whatever Wikipedia..." her eyebrows rose at the name she hadn't heard in quite a while, as he caught her gaze, holding it steadily as her chest rose and fell a little more quickly than strictly normal.

It was if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and they were engulfed in a thick silence, heavy with the unspoken words that lingered between them. So much had come to pass over the last few weeks, months, hell years and in this moment, in the quiet of the morning hour, it was plain for them to feel, to see in the orbs of one another. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide; they were just two souls sharing a couch, waking to each other not for the first time, but the first time as Marty Deeks and Kensi Blye. There was no pretence to fall back on, no op to interrupt them; they were free to play out the situation however they pleased.

Kensi bit her lip as her gaze flickered from his eyes to his mouth, her stare locking onto the little smudge of caked blood that had pooled in the corner of his bottom lip the night before. Her body on autopilot, her brain screaming at her unruly hand, she reached up and gently pressed the pad of her thumb over it, her eyebrows creasing as she saw him grimace ever so slightly.

"Looks like Nurse Kensi missed a spot," he grumbled, the light-heartedness clearly forced.

"Doctor Kensi, excuse you," she corrected, softly sweeping her thumb down his jaw.

Deeks swallowed deeply as he took in their position, he still half lying on her, she with her fingers still wrapped around his arm, gluing it to her hip, her right leg hooked around the back of his knee, as her tousled, chestnut hair sprawled over his couch cushions, shinning brightly. She really was a sight for sore eyes, especially this morning of all mornings.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to say something, anything to express his gratitude towards her these last few days.

"Kens I...I just wanna say you know...for last night, I really appreciate..." he trailed off with a sigh, irritated with himself at how this was playing out.

With a shake of her head, his partner threw him a soft smile and shook her head, silently finding his awkwardness endearing.

"Hey, I'm your partner, you would have done the same for me, and have on more than one occasion," she replied quietly but firmly, her grip on his arm tightening just a little.

They smiled at one another for a moment before a gleam sprung to Kensi's eye. With a quirk of her eyebrow she took a deep breath and sang, "whenever I call you friend—"

"You sound like you're strangling a bag of cats," Deeks held up his hand to halt her, chuckling as she stopped abruptly and pinched his shoulder, mock-glaring at him.

"Oh and you're so much better?" she asked with a roll of her eyes.

"Uh yeah...I've a drawl apparently," he smirked for a moment before his face grew the most sincere she had ever seen it.

"Seriously though Kens...thank you," he murmured, earnestness in his eyes.

"You're welcome," she replied, patting his knee, ignoring the warmth that spread through her hand at the contact.

He nodded quietly and opened his mouth to try and continue but before he could, a sharp knock echoed throughout the apartment. A surge of something (he refused to acknowledge trepidation) rose in his chest as he fought to ponder who could possibly be calling at this hour. Any scenario he came up with was anything but good.

Exchanging a weighted glance, the partners scrambled to untangle themselves, heat rising in their cheeks as they realized just how close they had slept throughout the night, and stood up, Kensi making a beeline for her weapon (you can never be too careful) and Deeks tiptoeing to the door, shoulders tense as he leaned forward to peek through the peephole.

His tense shoulders instantly relaxed like a deflating balloon at the sight of a familiar face. Clearing his throat, his cast a half-glance behind him, catching Kensi lowering her gun in his peripheral vision before he unlocked the door, holding it open and tilting his head at a very flustered looking Andi Benson.

"Hi," she raised her hand in a stationary wave, before shuffling her feet back and forth, dark orbs lowered.

Deeks' eyebrows edged up his hairline as she stood there, looking incredibly uncomfortable in the corridor, shoulders hunched, arms folded.

"How did you find my apartment?" he asked, acutely aware of Kensi's presence as she stared at the two old friends from her spot in the middle of the room.

"A woman never reveals her secrets," Andi replied, trying and failing to sound coy as Deeks' face began to subtly morph into a harder expression.

"You called my mom didn't you?"

"I knew there was a reason you became a detective."

Deeks' sighed and shook his head, "please tell me you didn't tell her anything about any of this," he murmured, jaw clenched, as he stood back and ushered her in.

Andi shook her head and stepped past him, catching Kensi's eye and faltering, clearly shocked by her presence.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had company," she apologized lowly, a rose hint to her cheeks.

The agent leapt forward, waving a hand of dismissal at her words.

"No, no it's fine, I was just leaving," she rambled, before staring down at her attire. Rumpled, slept in clothes, complete with matted hair.

"I uh...I'm just gonna go change first," she continued, slowly walking backwards, picking up her go-bag and high-tailing it into the bathroom, the sense of impending awkwardness rising in her veins.

Deeks frowned as he watched his partner practically flee from the room. _What the hell was that about?_

"I'm sorry if I...interrupted anything, I know it's early..." Andi mumbled with a clearing of her throat.

The detective's attention was grabbed at that particular sentence, not just the words, but how they were said.

"We...uh you weren't interrupting anything," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he motioned for her to sit down on the couch.

"You want anything, water, juice, beer?"

"It's seven-thirty in the morning," Andi commented with a glance to her watch.

Deeks merely shrugged as he took the armchair opposite her and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he waited for her to continue.

"My—my mom told me you stopped by yesterday..."

The liaison shifted uncomfortably as the the events from the last twenty four hours began to morph into montage mode in his mind's eye. Like some sick, twisted film, he relived being slapped by a distraught and grief-ridden woman, furious with him for darkening her daughter's doorstep. It was an image that would stay with him for a long time.

"I—I just wanna say," Andi leaned forward a little, trying to catch her friend's eye, "I'm so sorry Marty...her reaction was so uncalled for. She—she didn't mean to...she's just been stressed you know? This whole thing has—"

"You don't need to explain, I get it, it's fine," he interrupted.

"No, no it isn't. I—I went to the precinct yesterday...I spoke to your lieutenant," she murmured, staring at her clasped hands, "he told me that you weren't on the case anymore."

A silence followed her words. Deeks merely nodded, not entirely sure what he was expected to say to that.

"I understand why you excused yourself from it; I don't blame you Marty—"

"I didn't excuse myself, I was suspended," he interrupted, a surge of irritation mounting in his chest at the thought of her either thinking it was somehow her fault or being told that he 'excused' himself, like he would ever do such a thing, in the middle of this case of all cases.

Her mouth dropped open in a silent 'o', sinking back into the couch, scrambling to form a response.

"So you...you can't help catch her killer anymore?"

The dejected hilt of her tone pierced his heart like the injection of a thousand needles, burying deep into his chest, right down into his soul. He hated, no, _despised_ himself for being kicked off the case in the first place, for letting Banks get under his skin, letting his temper get the better of him...it wasn't who he was, not really and he'd be damned if he'd let his temporary lapse in judgement be the cause of the pain of his old friend.

"Not in an official capacity, no, but that doesn't mean I don't have a plan B," he tried to offer her a comforting grin but couldn't quite manage it.

Before Andi could comment however, Kensi attentively walked back into the room, donned in fresh clothes, her hair slightly damp from what was probably a quick running of her fingers under the faucet and through the dark tresses as Deeks knew for damn sure that she'd misplaced her hairbrush, again. The woman really was a menace when it came to any semblance of organisation.

"Well, I gotta get to work," she said quietly, ignoring the ever-rising bile from the pit in her stomach at the thought that her partner wouldn't be coming with her, "so, I'll see you later?"

She hated the hint of nervousness in her voice as she looked to Deeks for confirmation. At the tiny nod of his head, she threw them both a small smile before making her way to the door.

"Oh wait, Agent Blye!" Andi exclaimed suddenly, retrieving a square, pink box from her bag.

Kensi's eyebrows rose in surprise as she turned on the spot and stared at the box that Andi was now holding out to her.

"I—I stopped by the bakery on the way over...you want a donut?" she asked politely, looking a little unsure of herself for a moment before shaking her head, setting her shoulders and staring her straight in the eye.

Kensi looked to her partner for a moment, who merely shrugged at her, before she reached out and took a particularly heavy-glazed pastry and smiled in thanks.

"Please don't feel the need to high-tail it outta here on my account...I was kinda hoping to get some juicy gossip on this guy," she jerked her head towards Deeks before smirking, "you show me yours and I'll show you mine."

"Words every guy lives to hear," Deeks murmured under his breath, his eyes darting between the two women as Kensi and Andi simultaneously rolled their eyes.

"I uh...I've a few minutes to spare," the agent smiled, stepping back into the living room and sitting down on the couch, one side of Deeks as Andi took at seat at his other side.

The blond kept his eyes on his knees as the brunettes both turned to him.

Nothing good could come from this.

* * *

"Are you sure? And you've double checked? Triple checked? Okay, well, let me know the results as soon as you get them," Rose Schwartz murmured before hanging up and pocketing her cell phone.

It had been a hell of a day and she'd only been at work for forty-five minutes. With a grim twist of her mouth, she turned to the skeletal remains that lay on her morgue table. It always saddened her, every human life that ended up on her table, under the harsh florescent lights, the stillness of the night their only comfort. But these cases were always the worst, anything involving a young person snuffed out in the prime of their life.

Admittedly, she hadn't worked many cold cases; she was used to relatively fresh corpses so skeletal remains were few and far between, but her determination to help find justice for these people were just as strong as any other. The coroner felt a particular pull towards this young girl, a girl that had clearly meant a lot to Detective Deeks.

While she'd only had a handful of exchanges with the liaison over the last three years, Rose always found him to be a great cop, charming and funny too. To see his face when his eyes landed on Fay's family photo pulled from her wallet was painful, his usually dancing eyes dull, his usually cheerful face now void of any of the gentle teasing that he donned around Agent Blye.

Even though she didn't know him particularly well, it jarred her to see such a response from him. She'd been in the presence of grieving loved-ones more times than she could count, but this time it was different. She knew the loved-one personally, knew how much of a good man he was and could see as plain as day how much this tragedy affected him.

And that only added to her determination in finding something, anything that could help get the young girl's killer, a killer whose weapon of choice was a blunt object with a rounded surface. Leaning forward, the coroner measured the diameter of the injury and made more notes to her ever expanding pages.

So far she could determine from the level of decomposition that Fay had indeed died at least twenty years before, twenty-two to be precise, so in or around the time of her disappearance. Next, the doctor determined that the cause of death had been blunt force trauma to the base of the skull with something that was smooth, had no jagged edges. Her personal affects had been left buried with her, an empty wallet with a photo of her and what must have been her little sister and a hand-bag that contained nothing but a worn paperback copy of _A Picture of Dorian Gray._

Dr. Schwartz had techs examining what was left of Fay's clothes but wasn't sure if they would recover anything that could help with solving her murder. A body that had been underground for that period of time, a lot of whatever evidence was probably degraded, either by time or insect activity, but she did not give up. There was always a chance, she'd seen it before, when all hope was lost, there was a breakthrough. She had to believe that this case would be no exception.

That thought had barely left her brain when something caught her eye as she gazed down at the skull. With a frown, she leaned even closer, grabbing the overhead light and pulling it down to within a few inches of the body and grabbed the nearby forceps. It was minuscule, hardly there really, easily missed upon first inspection, but not the second. Not for the first time, Rose appreciated her sharp vision as she reached down with the forceps and plucked the foreign object from where it was imbedded deep in the skull.

With great caution, she deposited it in a Petri dish and placed it onto the table behind her, before readying the microscope. As she was preparing a slide, one of the techs, a vivacious young woman with a bounce in her step, burst into the room, a look of raw triumph on her face.

"Doctor Schwartz!" she exclaimed loudly before biting her lip at her raised tone, "on the clothing examination," she continued a little quieter but still as excited, "we got something!"

Rose could barely contain her excitement.

"Me too Liz," she peered down at the small sliver of something that was certainly not bone, "me too."

* * *

A continuous round of loud thumping reverberated off the walls, each beat deafening as they grew more feverish, each louder and quicker than the last. It had been over two hours now of this constant stream of punches and had the bag not been used to it, to the onslaught of many an agent's frustration at the world, at themselves, the disenchantment at life's unfair events, it would have wilted against the pressure. It seemed that Agent G Callen was especially determined to let off steam today, to rid himself of the pent up anger, despair and guilt that had ensnared his soul over the last few days, the guilt especially being the most prominent.

His wrist gave a sharp twinge as his fist connected particularly hard with the bag, his knuckles scuffing a little. He halted for a moment, the final punch echoing around the room as he began to re-wrap his hand for another round. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, a droplet dripping down the bridge of his nose as his heart hammered in his chest, its pulse thumping in his eardrums.

"You're here early," came a voice from behind him, a voice belonging to one Henrietta Lange who had stood and watched him intently for a moment before speaking.

"You too," he murmured, not turning around.

"Not as early as you, which is certainly a rarity...how long have you been torturing that bag Mr. Callen?" Hetty asked as he walked toward him, hands clasped in front of her.

"A while," Callen replied vaguely, still not looking at her as he finished taping his hands, taking a swung at the bag with his right hook.

"You know, you can take out your aggression on inanimate objects as much as you wish...it won't change anything," she commented wisely, with a pensive finger to her lips.

"It makes me feel better," he gritted out, jaw clenched as he swung with his left hand.

"And why would you be in need of comfort, Mr. Callen?" she asked gently, stepping even closer, apparently unperturbed at her agent's aggressive activity.

Callen paused, his fist suspended in mid-air as he contemplated his response.

"Because I pushed him too far, it was my fault he snapped and—"

"Mr. Deeks would have lost his composure regardless of your input, Mr. Callen. This case and all the memories and emotions that come with it, is enough to push anyone to their limit. Had it not been you he let his aggression out on, it could very well have been someone less prepared—"

"So you're saying I did him a favour?" he snapped, whirling around to finally look her dead in the eye.

"What I'm saying Mr. Callen," she continued as calm as ever, "is that Mr. Deeks was and is dealing with a number of factors that added to his inevitable slip, no one person or action is solely to blame. But your guilt is understandable...you care about Mr. Deeks, he is a part of your team and he's going through a particularly hard time, just like you have in the past...but to feel personally responsible is...to put it bluntly, ridiculous and quite supercilious," she finished, fixing him with a level stare, her tone ever so matter of fact.

Callen fought the urge to roll his eyes as she said this. It was such a typical Hetty response that really, after all these years, he should not have been surprised, but he was. He had (to some extent) dreaded an onslaught of abuse from his colleagues about what had went down with Deeks, he knew, they all knew really that he was out of order but that hadn't happened, at least, not yet. He suspected Kensi would be having words when she got in today. If she was coming in today.

"Is he really suspended? I mean, I know Bates called and said—"

"Yes, he's really suspended, indefinitely," she interrupted, a grim set to her mouth.

"And there's nothing we can do to help him?" he asked, frustration lacing his tone.

A slow, sly smirk spread across Hetty's face as she tilted his head at him. With a quirk of her eyebrow, she opened her mouth, a hint of mischief in her voice:

"Well, I wouldn't say there's _nothing_ Mr. Callen..."

* * *

Laughter filled the apartment of Marty Deeks as he, Kensi and Andi tucked into the donuts that she brought over, washing them down with some much needed coffee.

"Oh please, you've done worse Kens, shaking your booty at a live audience with your underwear tucked into your tutu ringing any bells?" Deeks snorted as Andi finished her particularly amusing story of when he had tried to impress a girl in middle school with his rendition of _My Girl_, with arm-pit farts.

"That's different Deeks, I was six!" she rolled her eyes, "you were like 13, isn't that a little immature, even for you?" she teased as he stuck out his tongue at her.

"Whatever Fern—"

"Fern?" Andi interrupted with a confused look to Deeks.

"I gave it to Kensi early in our partnership. It's a nickname."

"A terrible nickname," she commented as Kensi clapped her hands in triumph.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, throwing a grin in Andi's direction before staring pointedly at her partner.

"And on that note, I'm gonna go change...I trust you ladies can entertain yourselves?" he winked, chuckling as Kensi threw a cushion at him and Andi scoffed.

"Oh yeah," the brunette turned to the agent as Deeks' bedroom door snapped shut, "he's just as I remember him."

Kensi smiled softly as a hint of silence descended on the pair. This was the third time she found herself alone in the company of the other woman and she found that every time got a little less uncomfortable. Her curiosity therefore, began to get the better of her. She wanted to know more about her partner, more about what he was like as a young adult. She had a unique window, however brief and dammit she was going to use it. She needed funny blackmail material after all.

"What were you guys like in High School?" she asked, hoping to get more embarrassing antics of a teenage Marty Deeks.

"Well, like I said, me, Marty and Ray really were like The Three Musketeers. But I guess if you were to ask the guys, they'd say they were more like the Justice League – just one of the reasons I find it so funny that Marty's a cop now, literally a fighter for justice," she paused to chuckle before biting her lip and shaking her head, "Ray always tried to be Batman but Marty said R was for Robin and Ray said M was for Martian Manhunter...it was definitely one of the stupider arguments they had over the years..."

Kensi smirked as the image of the two teenage boys, one tall, gangly and blond, the other short, stocky and brunet arguing over which superhero best suited them. It was endearing and made a burst of warmth flow through her chest as she conjured the fabricated memory.

"You guys really liked mixing your comic tastes huh?" she asked, biting into another donut, remembering the time Deeks showed her his extensive collection of many comics from both publications.

"Well, the DC VS. Marvel debate was always a sore point..." she laughed, "but yeah, it was our connection I guess, even though most of the time I didn't have a clue what they were talking about. Comics weren't really my thing; I just read them because the guys liked them."

Kensi nodded, feeling that this wouldn't be the best time to let the other woman know that she was quite the avid reader of all her father's comics. To each their own.

"Hey," Andi said suddenly, leading forward on the couch and closer to Kensi, "mind if I ask you something?"

A sense of dread rose in the agent's chest in anticipation for what this woman could possibly ask her.

"Is Marty okay? I went down to the station yesterday to try and speak to him but he was gone. He just told me that he was suspended," she frowned, clearly worried about her old friend.

Kensi stilled, neither expecting her question nor having the slightest idea how to answer it. She decided honesty was the best policy, or at least as much honesty as an undercover agent who was incredibly private was anyway.

"He uh...he's fine, for the most part," she began attentively, "it's just...a few things have cropped up over the last few days and—"

"When you say things...you mean his dad, right?" she interjected, the look of worry growing on her face.

Kensi's voice died in her throat, truly at a loss for words. While she did not want to betray her partner and friend's trust by disclosing any events he didn't wish to be common knowledge, she realized that this was a close friend of his, an old friend, someone who was around when said events began. So she decided to work in half-truths.

"He is part of it; this case has dredged up a lot of memories for Deeks. Especially with his father being named as a possible suspect for...what happened to your sister. But he's fine, dealing with things, you know Deeks, he'll bounce back," she nodded, sounding a lot more sure of that than she felt.

Andi took a quiet moment to take in Kensi's words before murmuring softly, "I hope so...he really has gone through too much already. What my mom said or what I can imagine she said was awful and I can't apologize enough for it," she trailed off, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

Kensi nodded, feeling that nothing could really be said to reassure her. So, she opted for a tactical change of subject.

"So, you got any more embarrassing stories? Deeks got way too much dirt on me from my mom, I need a little more on him to level the playing field," she smirked; glad to see a small smile creep out on Andi's face.

"Okay, did he ever tell you about the time he was caught naked under the—"

"And you are so not telling that story," came Deeks' voice as he practically hurdled back into the room, one shoe in his hand, hopping up and down on one leg as he pulled on a sock.

"Buzz kill," Andi murmured, arching an eyebrow at Kensi.

"Come on Deeks, you owe me for the tutu story, tell me, when, where and why were you naked?" Kensi threw him a grin worthy of the Cheshire cat.

"Don't forget how he became naked in the first place," Andi chimed in with a chuckle, "go on Marty, tell her."

"Yeah _Marty_, tell me," the agent urged, emphasis on his given name.

"What is this, the oestrogen inquisition?" Deeks gaped between the two of them before his ringing cell-phone caught his attention.

"Always a smartass," Andi laughed before faltering as he glanced down at phone and frowned.

Kensi's eyes raked over her partner as he stepped away slightly, his voice lowered as he answered the call. The sudden stiffness in his spine did not go unnoticed by either woman, they both watching intently as he continued to murmur and nod frantically, the tiny voice on the other end of the phone barely audible in the dead silence of the apartment.

"Uh huh, okay, thanks," he finished before hanging up and slowly lowering the phone from his face.

"Deeks?" Kensi asked, her tone thinly veiled with concern.

"Huh?" his head snapped to her, his eyes alight with something akin to shock, his mouth slightly agape.

"Who was that?" Andi asked quietly, clearly fearing the worst as her eyes glued to his pale knuckles that were wrapped around the cell-phone, clutching it tightly.

"It was Doctor Schwartz, the coroner..." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, unsure of how to continue.

Kensi caught Andi's eye before she practically bolted out of her seat.

"What did she say? Has she found anything that could lead to Fay's killer?!"

Deeks dragged a palm down his face as he struggled to come up with a response.

"Andi...technically I'm not working this anymore, I really shouldn't—"

"So you're giving up?" she gaped, clearly agitated by his reluctance to tell her anything. "Look, Marty, I know this has been hard on you and I can't apologize enough for my mom and everything but this is my sister, this is Fay, the amazing girl who babysat us and let us stay up late and eat chocolate ice-cream for dinner and..." her voice broke, her eyes swimming with unshed tears, "she was talented, beautiful and the kindest person in the world and I've spent the better part of my life trying to make her proud. Someone cut her life short, destroyed her hopes and dreams and deprived the world of knowing how amazing she truly was...and whoever that bastard is, deserves to rot in prison for the rest of their life."

Kensi bit her lip as she watched the two friends stare at each other silently. After a weighted moment, Deeks nodded minutely, clearly having an inner-battle with himself and coming to a conclusion.

"You're right...I owe it to Fay to find her killer and suspended or not, that's what I'm gonna do," he replied, a fierce determination in his tone as he deliberately avoided eye-contact with his partner.

"The coroner found something," he began, pacing back and forth, his mind reeling, "a sliver of wood imbedded in Fay's skull and a strand of hair in the fibres of the sleeve of her coat," he finished, turning to Andi and taking a deep breath, waiting timidly on her reaction.

"Well, that's good isn't it?" she asked, looking between the two partners.

Kensi, who had up until this point, remained silent on the subject, found that while a conversation needed to be had been her and her partner, this was neither the time, nor the place. She really had to be getting to OSP.

"Uh I gotta get to work but...I'll talk to you later Deeks?" she remarked, her question posed more like a statement as she stood up and walked to the door, her eyes narrowing as she saw a flash of something pass over his face.

"Uh yeah, sure," he murmured as she opened the door and stood out in the corridor. With a clenched jaw, she waited for when Andi was rummaging in her purse to motion to him rashly, a stern look on her face.

"What?" Deeks asked quietly as he stepped closer to her.

"You're not..." Kensi lowered her voice to barely above a whisper, "you're not gonna do anything stupid are you Deeks? I know what you said but you are still suspended, you keep digging into anything related to this case and it's your ass on the line."

"I know Kens, I know but Andi's right, this is Fay—"

Kensi held up her hand to halt him, her eyebrows furrowing.

"I know, it's something you have to do, believe me I get that..." she trailed off, memories of Clairmont passing between them, "just please, please me careful? Last thing I need is to bail your ass outta jail," she smirked, hoping to inject some of their regular back and forth into the tense situation.

"You seem incredibly concerned about my ass all of a sudden Blye," he replied, never disappointing in the banter department.

"Well, someone's gotta be...even if it does have a scar shaped like a mini Pac-man," she snorted before walking backwards towards the elevators, her eyes shining with mirth as she saw his look of pure outrage.

"What? You didn't tell me that! You said it was just a small scratch! Kensi? Kensi!"

* * *

Honking horns and blasts of car radios sounded down the streets of Los Angeles, the hustle and bustle of people buzzing from restaurants, stores and government buildings, the sun's rays basking in the glow of each passerby as they went about their morning errands, some parents with children, others students enjoying a breakfast bagel and others an undercover agent nervously tapping on her dashboard.

Despite the vivacious noise of life all around her, everything seemed too quiet, felt too still as she sat in traffic. Really, it should have been like any other work day with a few differences thrown in but really, after everything that had happened in the last few days (had it only been days?) Kensi felt like life was off kilter, skewed, hell, totally upside down.

For starters, her usually cheery, happy-go-lucky partner had a complete meltdown, got suspended from his job and was having a personal crisis that she was pretty much helpless in preventing, despite her best efforts. Yes, she knew that being there for him the night before had helped some but wasn't naive enough to believe that that was all he needed. Now, with him basically telling her that he was going off book and investigating a case he had been kicked off of, she was just waiting for the inevitable other shoe to drop. Due to this, a pit of ever-growing discomfort was rising from the tips of her toes to the strands of hair on her head.

At that thought, she reflected on the phone call Deeks received from Rose earlier. A sliver of wood and a strand of hair was a fantastic find, especially after being buried underground for so long. A break in the case could very well be coming...she just wished it had had come sooner, before Deeks got suspended. Now things were undoubtedly complicated—

A loud honk snapped the agent out of her musings and she realized that the light was green. Hurriedly, she pressed on the gas and got to OSP in record time, even with managing to stay at the speed limit. As if in a trance, she made her way inside, more hustle and bustle greeting her as her co-workers went about their business. Flashes of what went down yesterday, from Callen's fight with Deeks, to Nell's digging around in his sealed files came flooding back at the sight of the bullpen, occupied by one half of the team. With a shake of her head, she pushed them down and made her way over to her desk.

"Morning," she grumbled lowly, throwing down her bag, not looking at either of them as cut off their conversation.

"Morning," Sam replied evenly throwing a look in his partner's direction, "how's Deeks?"

Kensi tensed, abstaining from sitting at her desk, instead choosing to remain standing, her back firmly to Callen.

"He's fine," she responded shortly, arms folded across her chest, "Hetty in?" she asked unnecessarily, jaw clenching, already stepping away and walking towards her office.

Sam and Callen watched her retreating back, the latter squashing down the sense of discomfort forming in the pit of his stomach. He knew she was going to have words with him, whether it be sooner or later he couldn't tell, but they were coming, that was for damn sure.

"You ready?" he asked, shoving those thoughts from his mind, standing up and putting on his jacket.

"Yeah...you sure this guy can help us help Deeks?" Sam questioned as they made their way out to the car.

"It's worth a shot," Callen shrugged, Hetty's words still ringing in his ears.

Meanwhile, Kensi found herself staring at the empty office of one Henrietta Lange, neither hide nor hair seen of the petite woman. She'd been doing that a lot lately, seemingly absent more often than not ever since Deeks caught this case. The agent in her knew that her boss was up to something, pulling some invisible strings for some unknown agenda and she couldn't help but feel the familiar sensation of frustration and rising anger bubble in her veins. Just once, she wished that Hetty could be upfront with her employees, especially considering the circumstances but really, she knew that all the wishing in the world would be for nought. Instead, Kensi focused on finding her, starting with the one place she dreaded more than the bull-pen right now, Ops.

Bounding up the stairs, she aimed to do this as quickly as possible, like ripping off a band-aid, but all her quiet rationale went out the window when she stepped into Ops and was met with the image of yet another case-file suspended on the large screens that caused a surge of the aforementioned frustration and anger to flare up in her chest.

"What the hell is this?" she demanded loudly, unable to hide the emotion in her tone as Nell and Eric jumped in their seats, startled at her sudden entrance.

"Kensi it's—"

"You're digging into Woodruffe now? Didn't you do enough of that already? Wasn't it enough to pry into Deeks' past all incognito," Kensi cut across a scandalized Nell, their eyes interlocking, "but now you're—"

"Sam and Callen asked us to look into the case, they're going to interview Woodruffe to get his take on suspects...we aren't digging into him personally," Eric clarified evenly, hiding his surprise at the agent's outburst. It wasn't every day that he witnessed the usually calm and collected Kensi Blye explode, especially at one of her own.

Kensi faltered, frowning at his response.

"You guys are working the case?" she murmured, her voice quieter than before.

"But Hetty said—"

"That we can't help in any professional capacity...meaning no paperwork and no reporting to the boss as she's bound to in turn report to her superiors, which is why Sam and Callen have taken a long lunch and Hetty has stepped out for the day," Nell replied, breaking eye-contact with the agent and turning back to her computer.

At the analyst's words, Kensi's eyes lowered to the floor, feeling both ashamed of her behaviour and yet not finding it in herself to forgive the blatant invasion of privacy Hetty authorized by ordering Nell to unseal Deeks' personal files. She was torn, while she was grateful and proud that her teammates were risking their careers by helping in an unsanctioned case that they were deliberately shut out of to help their friend, she was angry at Callen and Nell specifically for their actions, even if she didn't want to be. She guessed it was the urge to protect her partner that caused such alien emotions to well up in her and that fierce protectiveness wasn't dissipating any time soon.

"A long lunch at 9am..." Kensi couldn't contain the pleased smirk, shaking her head and folding her arms, adapting a more patient stance, "you find anything that could help?" she asked, deciding to push down her personal feelings and focus on the task at hand, helping to solve the case.

Not only was this about getting justice for a young woman and her family but it was for Deeks too. He needed this, needed for his friend to find closure, needed for his other friend's soul to be at peace. And if that meant that a few individuals at OSP willingly put their livelihoods on the line to make that happen, then so be it. He would do the same for any of them. Had done in the past and would in the future if the need ever arose.

"Yeah," Nell responded, a little less affronted than before, a small an attentive smile forming on her face, "we found something..."

* * *

"You guys really know how to pick locations," Jimmy Woodruffe commented as he sat at a bar in a particularly vivacious restaurant overlooking the beach.

"What can I say? We like mimosas," Sam shrugged, he and Callen pulling up a stool and joining the ex-cop.

"I'm more of a hard-liquor guy myself...but I suppose you already know that," he conceded, not ignorant to the fact that he was more than likely under investigation too, gulping down the last of his fruit-juice with a smack of his lips, not for the first time cursing the early hour of the day.

"My name is Sam Hanna, this is my partner G. Callen," the agent introduced himself with an offering of his hand.

Jimmy shook it firmly, Callen's too, before asking, "you're friends of Marty?"

The partners shared a look and simultaneously nodded their heads.

"And why isn't he here?" he asked suspiciously. Even though they'd spoken on the phone, he didn't feel entirely comfortable speaking to these men without first speaking to Marty, colleagues or not.

"He's running down other leads," Callen replied, deciding that it was Deeks' place to tell Woodruffe of his suspension if he wished. "We're here to ask you a couple of questions about the Benson case...is there anything you can tell us about your original suspects?" he finished, resting his arms on the bar.

"Well," Woodruffe paused pensively, "there were three. Tommy Maxwell, Will Jenkins and the local drunk Gordon Brandel..."

Sam and Callen's eyebrows simultaneously furrowed.

"Brandel? He was a suspect back then?"

Jimmy fixed Callen with a knowing stare.

"Yeah, but he was dismissed, early in the investigation. Yes, he was in a brawl with Fay's father the night before her disappearance but this was Brandel, he fought with everyone. Besides, the timeline didn't fit, he didn't have the time from when he was released to get to where Fay was, kidnap and murder her and make it back to his known haunt to be seen by the many witnesses I interviewed back then. So...no, Will Jenkins was my prime suspect, still is," he said firmly, staring into the now empty glass.

"And what made you suspect Jenkins?" Sam asked.

"A few reasons, mainly it was a gut feeling you know? He...he was just too...shifty, too calm, had an answer for every one of questions, never had to think, reflect, everything was instantaneous, never did he break composure. Oh he forced out a tear or two but that's exactly what it was, forced. What I saw in Tommy though, that was genuine grief, so yeah, I ruled him out too," he finished, a palm rubbing the light stubble on his chin.

"And what are your thoughts on Tommy's recent confession?"

That caused the ex-cop to turn sharply, his light eyes shining with determination.

"I think someone put him up to it, someone that always had power over him," he surmised, "but that's all circumstantial...most of it is and that's the problem, no hard evidence, whoever it was, covered their tracks well, almost as if—" he broke off, the words he long dwelled on sticking in his throat.

"Almost as if...?" Callen urged him with a quick glance at his partner.

"Almost as if," Woodruffe met Callen's eyes, "he got help from someone who knew what he was doing. Someone who could be calm and collected in a situation, who wouldn't lose their head about having to bury a body in a place where no one would find it for decades..." he trailed off, his unspoken words between the lines ringing loud and clear in the agents' ears.

"Of course, with that person happening to be the chief of police and my boss, I couldn't go around pointing fingers. And with the reports from the rookies calling me unreliable and losing my marbles and drowning my failures in the bottle...my reputation at that point was shot to hell. Then, you know what it's like, other cases come along and before you know it that case that means so much to you goes cold and you're distracted by others and..." he rose his hand to the bar-tender for another juice, "but it was one that was constantly in the back of my mind and I guess I couldn't let it go but I couldn't pursue it so, I left the force in '92, tried to put it behind me...can't say I've been too successful," he finished, taking a sip of his new drink.

There was a beat of silence as the agents digested this information.

"Who were the rookies that reported you?" Sam asked, interested in this new information.

Woodruffe heaved a sigh, clearly reflecting on a particularly difficult period in his life, "well, there were a few, but the main guy was Officer Nathan Harris..."

The two partners exchanged weighted glances, Callen saying what they were both thinking:

"Looks like running a fellow cop's reputation into the ground can help you climb the ranks..."

"Yep," Woodruffe conceded, "Marty's lucky, having guys like you by his side, guys who stand by him and risk their careers by sticking their noses into cases that have nothing to do with them."

Sam and Callen's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh give me some credit; I was a cop you know. I can tell you guys aren't from the LAPD a mile off, which means, you gotta be NCIS, therefore having no jurisdiction and risking a hell of a lot to be here talkin' to me..." he mused, folding his arms and eyeing the two partners.

"Like I said," he continued, his voice sounding a little more dejected now, "guys like you and a partner like Ms. Blye can go a long way in this business...it's something I definitely could have done with back when I was on the force..."

The partners exchanged another glance, both silently vowing the same thing.

This guy, Harris, was definitely gonna have to answer to what he did to this man...

* * *

"Oh you so have a selective memory," Andi Benson snorted as her old friend conveniently forgot another one of her more embarrassing trips down memory lane.

Marty Deeks rubbed his sore shoulder, trying not to pout.

"I do not! I think I'd remember if I ever climbed up to your bedroom window in nothing but Superman boxers," he rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee as his friend continued to splutter at his blatant faux-forgetfulness.

"If you say so," she dismissed with a small grin.

A silence descended on the pair as the lasts of their coffee was drank, the brunette taking the time to glance at her watch and realizing that she really ought to be getting to work. Standing up, she deposited her cup on the kitchen table and turned to catch her friend in a rare, pensive moment, drinking in his tired, red-rimmed eyes and heavier beard than she ever remembered him having.

"Marty..." she murmured softly, stepping towards him, "I'm really sorry about your suspension, I know this case must be hard for you too—"

Deeks cut her off with a dismissive wave and a tight smile.

Andi faltered, not sure how to continue as he failed to reply. Ever aware of the ticking passage of her already small window of time, she decided to just cut to the chase.

"So...about the sliver of wood and the strand of hair the medical examiner found..." she trailed off as she saw his shoulders stiffen, "did she say anything about DNA or—"

"She's running tests as we speak..." he cleared his throat, standing up and meeting her gaze, knowing that his next words would be particularly hard to say and for her to hear, "Andi, Rose called me out of courtesy, she doesn't know I've been kicked off the case...even if she does call back with the results I—I'm not sure how much I can do to help. I've no badge, no authority to interview any known suspects or any that could come up in the investigation...I don't know if I can help you get the answers, the closure you need," he finished, his voice dejected, his eyes now focused on a spot on the wall to the left of her head.

Andi bit her lip, a well of tears springing to her eyes that she rapidly blinked away.

"I understand Marty, I do...but, if she does call back with the results could you call me? Let me know? Any information at this point is, well, you know," she waved her hands as if they expressed the rest of her sentence, "and maybe...if you could ask about Fay's personal affects too? I know I'd really like the bracelet I made her back..."

"That bracelet like the one you made me and Ray?" he asked, a teasing chortle on his lips.

She rolled her eyes, "yeah, Ray barely waited until my back was turned to 'lose it,' guess it wasn't 'manly' enough for him," she laughed, "but you," she poked him in the shoulder; "you and Fay never took yours off! I remember when she was getting ready for a date, I walked into her room when she was just out of the shower and there was the little purple bracelet, wringing wet on her wrist. She promised she'd never take it off but even I thought that wearing it in the shower was ridiculous, but that was Fay, she was so considerate like that..."Andi trailed off, giving a soft chuckle before swallowing deeply, pushing down the rising emotion before again glancing to watch.

"Oh crap, I'm late, I gotta get to work...I—I'll see you soon?" she asked hurriedly, already bolting to his door.

"Uh, yeah sure, I'll call you soon," he murmured, following her to the door and holding it open.

She stepped out and turned on the spot, offering him one last smile before nodding and walking towards the elevators.

"Don't be a stranger Marty...I've just got you back," she called over her shoulder, causing a soft chuckle to erupt from the detective.

With a shake of his head, he closed the door with a snap, silence broken only by Monty's light snoring now his only company. With a sigh, he glanced around his utterly still apartment and found it to be suffocating, the eerie calm feeling much like that before a storm. With fierce determination flooding his veins, he inwardly vowed that suspension or not he would get to the bottom of who murdered Fay, despite what he may have lead Andi to believe. He didn't want to give her false hope, to lead her on or make promises he couldn't keep, so he decided that this was the best way to go, for everyone involved.

Snatching his phone up from the arm of the couch, he clicked down through the numbers until he found the name he was looking for, but before he could press the button, his cell vibrated in his hand, the name in question flashing up on the screen.

"Speak of the devil," he murmured, answering the call and holding it up to his ear, "Jimmy, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

* * *

The loud chattering of dozens of teenagers lined the halls of Reseda High School as Andi Benson made her way towards her office, checking her watch for the fifth time in the last ten minutes, relieved to find that she was just on time.

Shuffling her books in her arms, she tried to shove her left hand in her pocket to retrieve her office keys when she heard raised voices omitting over the dozens of students from across the hall. With a frown, she tip-toed closer, curiosity getting the better of her and tilting her head towards the door. The noise in the corridor had died down now that the bell had rung and the voices coming from Principal Jenkins office were intensified.

"This isn't the time Will—"

"But Dad I can't take it anymore, please—"

"That's enough! Just...listen to me son, this will all blow over..."

Andi leaned closer to the door as the voice lowered to an inaudible level. An overwhelming sense of foreboding settled in her chest as the man's words washed over her. A heavy, tyrannical, sickening feeling pushed itself into her thoughts, her gut achingly calling out to her. Something was happening here, something not quite right; she could feel it in her bones.

"All you have to do it keep calm and not breathe another word to the—"

Suddenly, the books in her arms tumbled to the floor, the loud smack echoing in the near empty hallway, effectively drowning out whatever the unidentified voice was going to say. With a grimace, she scrambled to gather them, shaking her head in irritation as she realized that some of her papers were scattered all over the corridor.

As she kneeled down and picked up as much as could as quickly as she could, she heard the unmistakable thump of heavy footsteps and before she could straighten up and make a hasty get away, she was staring down at pristinely polished, black loafers. Slowly, she raised her dark eyes and was met with a face she hadn't seen in years.

"Well if it isn't little Andi Oakley," Alf Jenkins smiled brightly, using a pet-name she hadn't heard since she was a young child with a penchant for playing pretend as the kickass sharpshooter.

"Mr Jenkins," she plastered a wide grin onto her face as she straightened up, seeing Alf's son Will emerge from behind him.

"Andi," he murmured stiffly, "did you want something?"

"I—" her words stuck in her throat as she frantically thought of something, anything to say.

"Uh no, no Will, thanks...I just—dropped my stuff, having one of those mornings," she rolled her eyes in a faux-bemused expression, "I'll just be going..." she trailed off, snatching up the last piece of paper before nodding to Alf with a wry grin and high-tailing it a little down the corridor, opening her office, stepping in and leaning her back against the door, her heart racing a mile a minute.

_What the hell was that about?_

Whatever it was, she did not have a good feeling about it. Not at all...

* * *

"You know, you and your friends should know that there are other places in Los Angeles besides bars," Jimmy Woodruffe commented, knocking back what felt like his millionth non-alcoholic drink of the day – and it was not even noon yet.

"Yeah, sorry about that but uh...can't really bring you to the boat-shed right now," Deeks murmured with an awkward shrug. His companion had filled him in on the little trip that he'd taken with Sam and Callen and honestly, he wasn't sure how he should respond to that information, choosing to ignore it for now.

Still, it was a nice comfort knowing that despite everything, all his screw-ups, bad decisions and horrid behaviour, his team still had his back...even if they weren't terribly up front about it.

The ex-cop stared intently at the young detective, his eyes reminding him of Hetty's hawk-like gaze.

"What happened?" he asked firmly but lowly, pushing a fruity, pink drink with a multi-coloured umbrella towards him.

Deeks smirked down at the drink, shaking his head and taking a sip. What the hell.

"I was...kinda suspended," he replied just as lowly, not sure why he was spilling his guts so easily to a guy he could hardly remember, "guess that's what happens when you lose your shit in front of the boss..." he trailed off with a humorless chuckle.

Woodruffe nodded, reflecting on his own experiences for a moment. If he was correct in thinking, the young man probably went about the job the way he did back then, which prompted him to ask:

"So, what've you dug up so far?"

Deeks at least had the decency to fake a frown before giving up on trying to fool the old man.

"Well, it's hard to actually do any investigating without a badge but...Jenkins is still my main man in all this," he paused for a moment to take another sip of the surprisingly tasty drink, "I'm still waiting on the results of some evidence found on the body."

"You're still getting updates when you're off the case?" Woodruffe's eyebrows shot up his forehead.

"The M.E's a friend," he shrugged, taking out his cell-phone and placing it on the bar along with his keys.

"You always did have great friends..." Woodruffe smiled, "I remember you and that Ray kid, you guys were joined at the hip. And the younger Benson girl too..."

Deeks nodded, grinning a little as he thought about Ray living his new life with his now wife and young child.

"You must have spent most of your career patrolling our neighbourhood," the detective mumbled, not looking him the eye, instead staring at Eddie the bar-tender as he wiped down some glasses.

"You do remember me then?" the ex-cop asked, a sense of relief rising in his chest as he reflected on the group of memories from his time spent with Marty and his mother back in the mid-late 80s up to the early 90s, finding them as sharp as ever, as if they happened only yesterday.

"Course I do, you bought me my first giant pretzel, Ray tried to steal it from me," the blond laughed, the image of two seven year olds squabbling over a pretzel bigger than both their heads, springing to mind.

Woodruffe joined in with his laughter.

"I remember when you were about nine, you marched up to me, fire in your eyes, stubborn chin tilted, informing me that when you grew up, you were gonna be a cop, just like me, the best one Los Angeles would ever see...looks like you were right kid," he elbowed him lightly, draining the last of his drink.

"I don't know about that...I did get suspended, remember? And not for the first time...probably not the last either."

"I'm sure you had your reasons for whatever went down," his companion waved off him comment.

A small silence descended on the pair as the elder man raised a hand at the bar-tender for another drink and the younger nursed his.

"I...I tried my best to look out for you Marty, you know that right?" Woodruffe asked suddenly, startling the detective so much that he whipped around fast and got a creak in his neck.

"What—what are you—" the loud buzz of a vibrating cell-phone cut off whatever he was going to say. With frantic fingers, Deeks snatched up his phone from where it was sliding down the bar and offered an apologetic smile to Woodruffe.

"Hold that thought," he held up a finger before answering, "Rose, thanks for calling me back...uh huh, uh huh, really?"

Deeks bit his lip, his brow furrowing.

"Wow, no, no, that's incredibly helpful, yeah if I can get a sample I'll send it straight to you...okay, thanks Rose...oh hey, before I forget, was there a purple friend-ship bracelet found on the body?"

He drummed his jittering fingers on the bar as the doctor went to check the list of personal affects. After a moment, her voice came back over the phone:

"No, detective, all that was on her person was an empty wallet with a family photo inside and an old book...why do you ask?"

A heavy feeling of dread settled into Deeks' stomach as she said this.

"No reason, thanks Rose," he mumbled before hanging up.

The silver-haired man waited patiently as his companion cleared his throat and digested the information he just received.

"That was the medical examiner...she tested the wood found imbedded in Fay's skull, it's ash. Most likely from a—"

"Baseball bat?" Jimmy interjected, his eyes lighting up.

"How did you know?"

Olive green eyes met a sky blue.

"Because Will Jenkins was a batter...good one too, could have gone pro."

The last syllable had barely left the ex-cop's mouth before Deeks had jumped off the stool and raced outside, phone in hand, yelling over his shoulder, "I gotta make a call!"

Shaking his head, Woodruffe took a moment to watch the blond's now pacing form as he spoke rapidly on the phone, before digging his hand into his pocket and retrieving his own cell. Pressing the button until the last dialled name came up, he held it to his ear, surprised when it was answered after the second ring.

"Hello?" a soft, female voice answered.

"Thought you'd like to know...the bit of wood turned out to be ash, most likely from a bat."

Silence was all that could be heard on the other end of the line for a long, long moment.

"Thanks for letting me know, I really appreciate this Mr. Woodruffe," came the quiet reply.

"No problem, just promise me you won't do anything stupid, Ms. Benson."

"I don't make promises I can't keep..."

A soft click followed her words and the man realized the call had been ended.

Rubbing his tired eyes, the ex-sergeant sighed, suddenly feeling very nervous.

_What had he done?_

* * *

An aching foot pressed on the brake lightly, a car pulling up outside Reseda High School. Today, like many of the days before it, had felt like an eternity to Agent Kensi Blye and after receiving such a worried call from her partner, her adrenaline was doing overtime and when her body was at rest, it was pulsing, desperate to move constantly, until the day was at an end.

Apparently there had been a break in the case. Rose had called and informed Deeks that the sliver of wood found in Fay's skull had been ash, most likely from a baseball bat, judging from the injuries sustained. A rounded, blunt object, a bat best fitting the bill.

The agent had listened intently as Deeks threw all this random information at her, her heart hammering a mile a minute at his animated tone.

"So yeah, I really think Jenkins is our guy Kens...so, could you do me a favour?"

"Yeah, anything," she replied instantly.

"Could you...keep an eye on Andi? I mean, she is in the same building as the guy right now and I—I don't like the idea of her in the same area code as this guy if he even gets a whiff that the authorities are closing in. Rose has probably delivered the news to Harris and Kinney by now so they will more than likely come to the same conclusion as I did..." he trailed off, clearing his throat, "I mean, I know it's a long shot but...with the conclusive evidence of a bat and Jenkins being a known baseball player has to grant us a little probable cause to at least test his DNA against the strand of hair found so, it's better than nothing, right?"

Kensi's barely had time to draw a breath before he continued:

"Yeah so, I'm gonna work with Woodruffe and dig up anything I can on Jenkins...guess I'll have to put my Nancy Drew cap on," she could hear the slight smirk in his voice, despite his agitated state.

"Nancy didn't wear a cap," she murmured in reply, grabbing her bag and gun and racing out to her car to make her way to Andi's workplace.

"Whatever Wikipedia, you know what I mean; research isn't so easy without the full force of the LAPD resources or a Nell or Eric," he responded, sounding a little dejected.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head partner," she teased, trying to lighten the mood as she started the car and pulled off, "help is closer than you think."

And with that the partners hung up and Kensi now found herself outside the school, tapping frenetically on her dashboard, scanning the dozens of cars lined in the parking lot. There was no sign of Andi's car...

With a furrowed brow, the agent stepped out and gingerly made her way through the many vehicles, stopping dead in her tracks as she saw the space marked 'Principal W. Jenkins' empty.

Before she knew it, she was jumping back in her car, her phone at her ear, already calling Ops.

"Kensi, you talk to Dee—"

"Eric I need you to find Andi Benson's car for me, now! And get a lock on Will Jenkins' too," she said hurriedly, grabbing a pen and paper from her bag.

"Okay, one sec," he replied, the tap, tap, tapping of his keyboard audible over the line.

"Huh, that's weird," he mumbled after what felt like an eternity.

"What? What's weird?" the agent asked, the possibilities already making her sick to her stomach.

"Benson and Jenkins' cars...they're both in the same place. Will Jenkins' house..."

**A/N: Your eyes are probably tired huh? I know mine are :/ so I decided to split this MASSIVE chapter into two, listening to the very good advice of faithful reviewer Rhodanos. Good news though, there's no more waiting...click on ahead when you're ready for the conclusion of Part IV :D**

**Reviews are lovely :)**

**~Cortexikid x**


	26. Peccability AKA 'Deeks, M' Part IV Con

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 26: Peccability AKA 'Deeks, M' Part IV (Continued)**

**A/N: So yeah, this ended up being technically five parts because I didn't wanna overwhelm you guys with like a 25,000+ word chapter, but I'm treating is as a continuation of 'Peccability.' Hope you don't mind...enjoy!**

* * *

**WOTD: PECCABILITY; Pec·ca·bil·it·y noun. Short-coming, weakness, flaw, liability to sin**

She had it timed perfectly. It was coming up to lunchtime and he always went for coffee and a plain turkey sandwich in the cafe across the street around this time. So she intersected him, before he got the chance to make his getaway, fury and determination flooding in her veins as she marched up to him, head held high, her hips swaying back and forth tantalisingly.

"There you are..." she murmured softly, forcing her mouth to press in a small smile, flinging a long tendril of hair over her shoulder before biting her bottom lip.

Dark eyes narrowed as she watched him gape at her, disgust rising like bile up her throat as she saw his beady eyes gawk at her form, starting at her legs and resting on her breasts before finally managing to settle on her face.

"Hey Andi, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, all trace of his nervous behaviour from a few hours earlier, gone.

"Well, I was wondering...we haven't really had the chance for a catch-up over the last few weeks...so, I'd like to have lunch with you," she patted his arm gently, pulling out all the stops.

And it worked, unsurprisingly. She barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes and kicking him where the sun don't shine. Barely.

"Uh..." he breathed, clearly weighing the pros and cons before nodding with an air of a man that won an inner battle with himself...or his father's disembodied voice in the back of his mind.

"Sure, sounds great. Lead the way."

* * *

Had she have known that all it would take to gain entry to Will Jenkins' home was ask him out to lunch and fake a migraine, she would have done it when she first became suspicious of him. She had almost jumped out of her skin when she received that phone call from Mr. Woodruffe, her worst suspicions confirmed. This was the last piece of the puzzle, the last piece to fit into the empty slot, the phantom slot that has haunted her all these years.

With the confirmation that the sliver of wood was ash, more than likely from a bat, she knew, just knew that it was him. Everything from the days following Fay's disappearance remained fresh in her mind, how Will missed the biggest baseball game of the season, how when Andi asked him to play with her a few weeks after he said he lost his bat...it all made sense. His shifty behaviour, distancing of himself from her family during one of the most difficult times in their lives...how he went from a confident, outspoken young man to a withdrawn, almost cold individual, calm, too damn calm, emotionless.

During her conversations with Mr. Woodruffe over the last few days, they hypothesized and he let her on some of his theories that he'd formed over the years. She felt bad keeping her meetings a secret from Marty but she knew that he wouldn't approve of her, a civilian, actively involved in the case of her murdered sister. But Woodruffe, (perhaps the guilt of not solving the case years before had gotten to him) he was much more lax in allowing her to be privy to such information. And she was grateful for it, truly.

Had it not been for that phone call, she would not be here, in Will Jenkins' living room, ready to finally find some tangible evidence to tie him to Fay's murder and if not that then at least steal a few stray hairs from his pillow to run a DNA test (sometimes it paid off to have a friend in the Science department).

Even as all these wild thoughts, extreme actions ran through her head, she knew, in the deep, dark recesses of her mind that this was crazy, the actions of a desperate little sister, eager to avenge her sister's death.

But she didn't care.

This was something she had to do and she'd already gotten Marty into enough trouble as it was. He had been suspended, verbally and physically assaulted by her mother...enough was enough. She had to do this alone. Sure, the thought of calling the LAPD had crossed her mind but, part of her didn't want to waste their time in the off-chance that she came up empty.

So, it was she, Andi Benson, against he, Will Jenkins. Ladies and Gentlemen, start your engines.

"You want some aspirin?" Will asked as he showed Andi to his couch, grimacing as she groaned, clutching her head and plonking herself down heavily.

"Yes, please," she murmured, lacing her tone with faux-pain, not looking him in the eye.

"Okay, wait here," he retreated, hands held up as if trying to control the situation.

Andi waited a beat until she heard him tinkering around in the kitchen; she then leapt into action, scanning the room for something, anything that caught her eye. Almost instantly, she was drawn to a glass case containing photographs, ribbons and trophies at the very end of the large room.

With the lightest footfalls that she could manage, she tip-toed to the display unit and raked her eyes over every inch of it. There were childhood photographs from infancy right up to college age in gleaming frames, all of Will standing there, smiling proudly with his parents, his high school and college diplomas clutched in his hands in both pictures.

Fay never got to graduate.

Swallowing down the seething, furious acid rising in her throat, Andi continued her rapid search, desperation growing in her veins. There had to be something, there had to be anything—

"Here you go," Will interrupted her thoughts, crossing the room and handing her some water and aspirin.

Andi took them quickly, making sure that her skin didn't touch an inch of his, staring down at the items in her hand as if they were alien objects. Paranoia rose in her chest, it occurring to her that he may have spiked the drink or the pill not being aspirin at all. So, drawing every ounce of acting ability she could, she deftly turned slightly, made it appear that she swallowed the pill (while letting it slip down her sleeve) and merely pressed her lips to the glass. After a moment, she deposited it on the coffee table and turned back to Jenkins.

"Can I use your bathroom before we go?" she asked, smiling in what she hoped was somewhat aesthetically pleasing as he nodded and motioned down the hallway.

"Great, thanks," she stepped away; acutely aware of his eyes following her every move.

Thankfully, at that moment, his telephone began to ring and she took that moment to duck into what she hoped was his bedroom, one door shy of the bathroom.

"Jenkins' residence," she heard him answer before she turned and surveyed the room quickly. It was pristinely clean, unnaturally so, especially for a bachelor. In fact, it hardly looked lived-in, resembling that of something in a store catalogue than the room of a forty-year-old man.

Quickly and quietly, Andi began to open drawers, peeking everywhere she could, again reminded that she wasn't sure what is was she was looking for and that was damn frustrating. Still, she persevered and found that after a minute or two, she had looked in every inch of the near-empty room. That just left...the closet.

Her ears perked up, listening for any sound and was comforted by the fact that she could hear Jenkins still talking on the phone. Figuring she was still running out of time, she decided to move as fast as she could, bolting over to the closet and sliding the door open slowly, grimacing as it creaked a little. Halting in her motions, she listened intently and when her ears were met by Jenkins' muffled words, she continued, finding herself facing lines and lines of immaculate suits. She couldn't say she was surprised.

With a shake of her head, she disregarded the clothes and began rummaging around on the shelf that contained various trinkets, along with dozens of pairs of loafers, sneakers, flip-flops, every conceivable type of footwear. Again, she was not surprised.

Her rummaging was making more noise than she would have liked but at this point her desperation was overriding her rationale and caution. Suddenly, a loud creak sounded throughout the room, causing her to jump wildly, her hand connecting with a multitude of boxes lined to the right of the closet. Before she stop it, they all crashed to the floor, the contents spilling out all over the floor of the closet and out into the room.

Andi gaped, utterly frozen to the spot as she heard dead silence engulf the entire house. Jenkins wasn't on the phone anymore. Quickly, she went to race out towards the bathroom when she tripped over the many small objects littering the floor. With a glare, she glanced down, something immediately catching her attention.

Her heart stopped dead in her chest. No, it couldn't be...

The world around her was extinguished in that moment, every single thing falling away as she bent down and picked up a tiny, purple bracelet, dropping it into her palm, the lettering facing upwards. B-S-E.

"Best Sister Ever," Andi whispered, a lone tear trailed down her cheek.

"Andi, what the hell are you—" Will's voice died in his throat as he halted, his feet gluing to the floor as he saw the brunette standing in the middle of his room, staring down at something in her hand as his possessions lay at her feet.

"Where is it, Will?" she spoke quietly, calmly, her eyes never leaving her palm.

"What?" he asked, swallowing deeply, a deep sense of dread rising in him.

"The murder weapon, I know you have it. I know what you did to Fay..." she gritted out, her jaw clenched, her words pure steel as she held out her hand for him to see the small, beaded trinket.

"I—"

"Where is it?" Andi yelled, her calm composure slipping, the fury rising to an unbearable level as she stared at this scum, this pathetic excuse for a human being.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was running at him, left fist raised, it connecting harshly with his jaw, her right still clutching the bracelet tightly. Jenkins stumbled back, clearly surprised by her action and before he could right himself, she had struck him again, this time with her foot, connecting with his shin with a loud thump, causing him to tumble back into the door.

Andi glared down at the man that tore her family apart, ruined their lives and cut her sister's short and raised her right hand, bracelet firmly in place and struck him again as hard as she could before he could dare look her in the eye. Her fist punched his left cheek with enough force that he was knocked down onto the floor, fully sprawled onto his back, the vibration of the fall causing the bed-side mirror to smash down onto the hard-wood floor, shards of glass flying everywhere.

The brunette took those precious moments to make her escape, stepping over him and stumbling out into the hallway. But before she could get far, a hand reached out and gripped her ankle, causing her to trip and fall face-first onto the carpeted hallway. Wrenching her foot as hard as she could, she struggled to escape his clutches but was halted by a sudden sharp pain in her calf. Crying out, her bleary eyes darted back to find a jagged shard of glass stuck in her leg.

Their eyes interlocked, her mocha orbs flashing with a fierce strength as she hiked up her other leg and propelled it into his chest, taking the chance to push herself off the floor and hobble towards the exit. Her hand reached out to open the front door when suddenly, a sharp, jagged object dug into the flesh at her throat.

"Don't move a muscle," Jenkins warned, his voice shaking just as much as the arm he snaked around her neck, pushing the shard of glass into her skin, almost to puncture point.

"Or what...you'll kill me like you killed my sister?" she spat, holding up her hands and stumbling backwards on her bad foot, barely containing a snarl as his free hand clasped her elbow.

"You—you don't know what you're talkin' about," he replied, clearly flustered.

"Oh?" Andi asked with a faux-bamboozled tone, "I don't? Well, that's funny 'cause I thought I knew damn well what I was talkin' about. It doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together...Fay was hit over the head with a blunt, rounded object made of ash, most likely a bat. You were a prized baseball player, one of the best Reseda High School ever seen...oh and yeah, there's the little fact of finding the bracelet I made Fay in a box in your closet!"

"I—" Jenkins gaped, but before he could come up with a reply, he felt a pressure, a cold, uncomfortable force at the back of his skull.

"Put the glass down, Jenkins," came the voice of Agent Kensi Blye from behind him.

Andi took that moment to propel her head back into Jenkins' face, it connecting roughly with his nose, the satisfying sound of breaking bones reaching her ears.

"Argh!" came Jenkins' muffled cry as he staggered a little, but instead of releasing Andi, he pushed her forward into the door, tightening his grip as he whirled around to face the agent.

"Kensi, don't!" Andi yelled, struggling as Will's grip tightened on her neck. She didn't want this to end in blood-shed, she wanted him to be rot in prison for the rest of his godforsaken life for what he'd done. With a grimace, she felt the drip, drip, drip of the blood from his nose fall onto her cheek, leaving a wet trail of crimson behind. Still, she couldn't help but feel damn proud of her head-butting skills.

"Let her go Jenkins," Kensi spat, weapon aimed for the kill-shot as he walked backwards towards the door, free hand reaching out to turn the handle as, as he kept the glass steady in his other, dangerously close to piercing Andi's throat.

"No, no you're not getting me on this—" suddenly he shoved Andi at Kensi, them colliding roughly, taking that moment to fling open the door and race out towards his car.

Andi scrambled out of the way as Kensi drew up her weapon and shot out, the bullet scraping against Jenkins' right thigh. The man cried out, but managed to climb into his car and start the engine, rapidly reversing out of his driveway.

"Andi, stay here, dial 911 and get that leg checked out," she yelled before sprinting out to her own car and speeding after Jenkins.

The brunette gaped, watching in awe as the agent sped away, the screech of tires echoing in the suburban neighbourhood. With a wince, she limped over to her bag and snatched up her cell-phone and with shaking fingers, dialled the first person she could think of.

"Andi? What's up is everything o—"

"Marty! I'm at Will Jenkins place. I found out he killed Fay and Kensi got here and he took off and she's chasing him and—"

"Whoa, whoa," the ever calming voice of her old friend murmured, "you just hang tight; I'll be there in five minutes."

* * *

He deserved a damn Oscar for how calm he was acting right now. Arriving at Will Jenkins' place and being greeted by an injured and shook up Andi would be enough to visibly worry anyone, especially the sight of many droplets of blood littering the floor. Add that to the fact that his partner was off pursing a suspected-murderer with no backup however and that's where Marty Deeks began to lose said cool.

"Andi, Andi you good?" he lay his palm on her shoulder gently as Woodruffe tended to her leg-wound.

"I'm good, Kensi's—"

"Yeah, I'm going after her now..." he trailed off as he frantically dialled Ops.

After two agonizingly long rings, Nell's voice came over the line:

"Deeks hi, how are—"

"Nell I need you to track Kensi, now, she's chasing Will Jenkins, he's armed and has nothin' to lose," he grimaced as the words just flew out of his mouth.

"Okay, I'm sending the coordinates to your phone right now. Listen, Deeks I'm so—"

"Gotta go," he hung up quickly, his eyes wild.

"Jimmy, you stay here with Andi, I'm gonna go and—"

"I'm going with you," Andi interrupted, attentively placing her foot to the floor. "Why do you think I didn't call the cops? I knew they wouldn't let me come along to—"

"And what the hell makes you think I'll let you come either? Andi, technically I shouldn't be going at all but Kensi is my partner and I'd never leave her without backup. It's too dangerous for civilians," he rambled, jumping into action when his phone pinged, Kensi's location flashing up on the screen.

"Okay, I got it! Andi, you and Woodruffe stay here; I'll call you as soon as I can," he raced out the door and towards his car.

"Wait! Marty!" Woodruffe shouted behind him, jogging outside into the dusk.

"You might need this," he murmured, pushing a Beretta 92FS in his hands.

At Deeks' puzzled face, Woodruffe merely shrugged nonchalantly and shoved him towards his car.

"Go, your partner needs you!"

* * *

Kensi Blye stared up into the darkening sky and was surprised to see stars out, already sparkling like fine crystal dots in cotton candy clouds. Perhaps it was the wonder of the night that caused her to get oddly whimsical, or perhaps it was the fact that oxygen was being cut off from her brain, either way, the thought floated around in her mind for a foggy moment before her senses came flooding back to her.

Dammit! She was not going out like this...

With a surge of energy fuelled by the pure frustration and fury at letting this glorified desk jockey get the drop on her in one moment when she was so epically kicking his ass (if she did say so herself) she raised up her left arm as high as she could and elbowed him sharply in the ribs. With a painful gasp, he rolled off of where he was kneeling on her abdomen, falling to the dusty ground of the open desert.

It hadn't taken the agent long to chase him down (with her superior intense driving skills) and as his luck would have it, he found himself back at the burial site of Fay Benson. Point one, to Kensi.

Still too stubborn to give in now, not when he'd gotten this far, he took the elbow to the ribs as best he could and went to lunge at the agent, but missed by feet as she leapt up off the ground, whirled around and kicked him in the jaw with enough force to shove him back down into the dirt, the dust rising like a gust of wind.

With a groan, it was Will Jenkins that was now staring up, but he didn't have luxurious view of a starry dusk, instead he was greeted by the barrel of a SIG Sauer and the glare of two dark orbs, their intensity alone enough to leave him motionless and scared for his life.

"Don't move," she spat, retrieving a zip-tie from her pocket and using her foot to push him over onto his stomach. Kneeling, she straddled him, pulling his arms unceremoniously behind his back (ignoring his cries of protest) and binding them, before straightening up and dragging him off the ground with her.

"This wasn't me...you got the wrong guy I'm not—I wanna talk to my father, let me talk to—"

Kensi hushed him with a shake as she heard footsteps approaching her. With quick-fire reactions, she held onto Jenkins with one hand, spun around and pointed her gun at the intruder with the other.

"Whoa, looks like I already missed the fun," her partner smirked, holding up his hands in surrender before shoving Woodruffe's gun into the back of jeans, under his t-shirt.

"Don't you always?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow, putting her weapon back in its holster.

"Not when it counts," he winked.

With a roll of her eyes, she jerked her head towards the car and stormed back to it, shoving Jenkins out in front of her.

"Please, please just listen to me! I know this looks bad but—I didn't kill Fay, she was fine when I left her please just let me ex—"

"Uh oh," Deeks murmured behind Kensi as she pushed Jenkins up against the car door, effectively cutting off his rambling.

"What's uh oh?" she asked, but before he could respond, he was drowned out by the sound of loud sirens and flashing lights as half a dozen cops cars and unmarked vehicles pulled up on all sides of them.

With a shake of their heads and exasperated expressions, the two partners glanced at one another before Deeks murmured lowly, "here comes the cavalry, better never than late..."

* * *

"Interesting party you got goin' on here, Deeks," Lieutenant Bates muttered under his breath as his officers closed off the scene.

"Don't know what you're talking about Lieutenant, I just got here," the detective smiled back innocently before watching intently as Detective Kinney made his way over to Kensi, a look of raw vehemence on his face.

"What the hell were you thinking Deeks!? Going out there, no gun, no badge, no real authority to handle that type of situation after I suspended you! Only to walk right into trap with a gun-brandishing mad-man that had nothing to lose..." he trailed off, his jaw tightening even further.

"There was no trap Bates, my partner had it under control—"

"Your partner that had no business being here in the first place because this had nothing to do with the NCIS! She was out of—"

"She got the job done, didn't she? Which is more than I can say for any of the cops here, including me," Deeks grit his teeth before pushing himself off the squad car he was resting on and stepping away, "so if I were you," he called over his shoulder, "I'd thank Agent Blye for capturing a dangerous, gun-brandishing mad-man and chalk it up to a win for the good guys."

He could feel his superior's eyes burning a hole into his back (knowing he'd probably pay for that stunt) as he nodded at his partner who was begrudgingly answering the over-animated detective's rudimentary questions with a hint of boredom on her face.

"You're an NCIS agent...remind me again how anything to do with this case is pertinent to you?" Kinney asked, notepad in hand.

"It's pertinent to my partner so it's pertinent to me. And besides, I'm a friend of Andi Benson's, a friend who became concerned after receiving a worried phone call...the fact that I managed to help apprehend a murderer in the process of checking up on said friend is merely circumstance," she shrugged, a small, innocent smile on her face.

Throwing her a small smirk, Deeks side-stepped them and covertly made his way over to an large, black car that was parked a little in the distance, picking up speed as two figures got out, having the decency to look a little sheepish.

"So...when I said stay there with Andi, you just decided that that meant 'screw what Marty says, I'll bring her along for the ride?'"

Jimmy Woodruffe gave a short snort of laughter before his eyes trained on something behind Deeks' shoulder.

"Congratulations are in order, Agent Blye," he held out his hand for her to shake as she walked away from Kinney and halted beside her partner.

Kensi smiled wryly, grasping his hand in hers before offering Andi a concerned glance.

"You okay?"

The other brunette smiled, nodding her head, "yeah, thanks to you."

"He talkin'?" Woodruffe asked, gesturing to the car that Jenkins was locked in.

The two partners regarded each other for a moment before Deeks murmured, "more like shouting. And while we couldn't ask him any questions, he managed to implicate his father in his rambling about injustice..."

Jimmy's eyebrows shot up at those words.

"Then, realizing what he just said, thought it was about time he asked for his lawyer...he ain't the brightest crayon in the box, that's for sure," the detective smirked.

"That would explain his behaviour, if his father was telling him what to do...maybe Tommy's too," Andi chimed in.

"Which means that Alf Jenkins used his status as lieutenant and his experience with crime-scenes to save his son from going down for murder," Woodruffe finished just as Kensi's cell-phone began to ring.

"Excuse me," she stepped away for a moment as Deeks continued talking to the ex-cop.

"You guys better make yourselves gone," he cautioned, "if Bates sees you here I—"

Woodruffe held up his hand, already opening the door for Andi (who nodded her thanks and hobbled in), "don't worry Marty; we just wanted to see Jenkins get what he deserved. We're going back to Ms. Benson's place...call us when you can, huh?"

"Sure, oh and here, take this," Deeks carefully retrieved the gun and handed it over to him.

Woodruffe took the gun as Deeks nodded his goodbye before he got in the car and pulled away, waving to Kensi as he drove by.

"Alright, thanks Callen," the agent murmured as she stepped back over to Deeks, before hanging up.

"What was that all about?" her partner asked as they watched Andi's car take off into the night.

"Apparently Alf Jenkins was picked up outside of a bar by uniformed officers ten minutes ago...he's joining his son at the station..."

"Huh," Deeks smirked before scratching his chin thoughtfully, "how was he found so quickly?"

Kensi grinned back, shrugging, "apparently an anonymous tip was called in...funny huh?"

The blond laughed as they climbed into their respective cars, "very funny."

* * *

Marty Deeks' eyes were glued to the pale, sweating brow of one William T. Jenkins as he sat, motionless on one side of the gleaming, steel table with Detective Alana O'Connell walking around him. Silently, another presence joined him in the small room, stopping in front of the large window masquerading as a two-way mirror, starring into the interrogation room.

"Detective O'Connell is taking lead now?" Deeks murmured under his breath to Lieutenant Bates.

He merely nodded, not offering up any particular reason for the change in detectives but Deeks wasn't born yesterday. He knew that Bates had been watching both Harris and Kinney carefully since their blow-out with him and wasn't taking any risks where this case was concerned. Especially as more and more new evidence came to light and twists and turns formed at every break in the case.

"Why don't you explain to me why Ms. Benson found her dead sister's bracelet in your bedroom?" O'Connell asked, folding her arms and sitting down opposite the rapidly perspiring man.

"I—"

"You don't have to answer that William," his lawyer, a short, thin, balding man interjected.

"Okay then...how about you explain to me why you found it necessary to stab Ms. Benson in the calf with a shard of glass?" O'Connell raised her eyebrows, her crystal blue eyes trained on Jenkins.

"Ms. Benson entered my client's home under false pretences. She then proceeded to ransack his bedroom and throw accusations around—"

"And that justifies him stabbing her?" the detective interrupted the smarmy lawyer.

"My client insists she attacked him first, he has the bruising and scratch marks to prove it," he pointed to Jenkins' eye and cheek.

Deeks couldn't contain a small smile and the feeling of warm pride that filled his chest at that. Bates threw a sideways glance at him and he rearranged his expression to something more neutral immediately.

"Which brings us back to the bracelet, the reason Ms. Benson found it necessary to fight her way out of that room. What were you doing with your dead girlfriend's bracelet, Mr. Jenkins?" O'Connell pressed, shoving an evidence bag containing the bracelet in his direction.

The nervous man's eyes lowered to the bracelet, his already shaky facade crumbling before their very eyes. It was as if everything had finally gotten too much for him and the sight of that bracelet was the symbol of all his hardship. Suddenly, before any of the people (inside the room and observing) knew it, words were tumbling from his lips like cascading water.

"I loved her, you know, Fay. She was my high school sweetheart. She was funny, kind, the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen," he broke off for a moment, biting his lip, "but she—she had this dream. This...big dream of getting the hell outta her neighbourhood, away from her overbearing father and...she never gave a thought to me, you know?"

The anticipation rose in Deeks' chest as he felt the shift in ambience. This was it. The beginning of the end.

"William, please," his lawyer pleaded, reaching out to grip his arm.

"No!" he snarled, wrenching his arm back, staring straight ahead, past O'Connell, almost as if he could see Deeks behind the glass.

"I've...I've lived with this long enough. It's time...time that I made things right," he exhaled a slow breath before squaring his shoulders, straightening up and clearing his throat. O'Connell, Deeks and Bates all visibly leaned forward, waiting with bated breath.

"She told me that night, after the movie that she was leaving...going away to college in another state and wasn't coming back. We had it all planned to go to the same college and get married after we graduated, have a couple of kids, the white picket fence, everything. And she just wanted to throw all that away because she was sick of her dad! I mean, it was just selfish!" he snarled, the more unhinged side to him making its appearance.

"And what did you do then?" O'Connell prodded, not fazed by his outburst.

"Mr. Jenkins—" his lawyer's voice was so sharp it could cut glass.

"I told Tommy to beat it. Then we went for a drive..." he swallowed deeply, his breathing labouring.

"It was nice out that night, starry, like tonight...I pulled over at the make-out spot in the desert, pleaded with her to reconsider but...she was adamant. Said that she was focused on getting out, growing up a little, forgo college to make some money so she could try and get custody of her little sister from her parents, there was no convincing her otherwise..." he trailed off, a fresh bout of tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

Deeks' heart panged painfully, his throat burning with repressed emotion.

"So yeah, things got a little heated, I yelled and she got out of the car and started to walk home. And I—I was just driving after her, I swear, I didn't want her walking home in the dark by herself but then..." he buried his face in his hands, clearly overwhelmed.

The entire room was engulfed into silence as Jenkins fought to compose himself. Deeks' eyes never wavered from his face, watching for any sign that he was anything less than genuine.

"Then?" Detective O'Connell nudged him.

He bit his lip, the tears falling from his eyes, trailing down his cheeks.

"Then she started yelling, angry words, so, so angry. See, she asked me to come with her at first, to get outta this town and 'make something of myself.' She knew I wanted to be a cop like my dad and yet—she still wanted me to give up my dream so I could come with her. I mean, how is that fair? She could have her dream of getting away from her dad but I had to slum it in some dead-end job for the rest of my life? So yeah, she started yelling, calling me a coward, too afraid to live life and instead hiding in my daddy's shadow and—dammit!" he slammed his fist down on the table, the loud thump resonating around the room.

His breathing was frantic now, his chest rising and falling, him gasping for air as if he'd just run a marathon. Deeks knew by Jenkins' face that that precise moment was flashing across his eyes like an old film reel; he was experiencing it all over again as he spoke, he was back in that desert.

"And then...I just wanted her to stop, to shut up. So I pushed her. And she kept going, over and over saying that I'd never be anything more than my daddy's puppet, his very own little protégé like what her father wanted her to be. And I think, deep down, I wanted to prove her wrong, to make her see that I could do something without his permission, something my father would never approve of and I—before I knew it I had grabbed my bat from the back seat and threatened her. That's all. I bashed it off the trunk a few times to get my message across but never—I never wanted to hurt her..." he trailed off, his voice barely audible.

"You never wanted to...but you did Will," O'Connell chimed in gently.

He nodded, sniffling and wiping at his eye.

"I did...but I didn't even realize I did at first. One minute we were just yelling and the next minute she was on the ground, face down in the dirt, blood...so much of it—" he shuddered, his eyes falling shut.

"I—I panicked, checked her pulse, felt it, it was weak, but definitely there so I put her in the back seat and drove to the nearest payphone and called my dad—"

"Mr. Jenkins!" the lawyer held up his hand, turning to O'Connell, "detective, I wish to have a word with my client at this time. He—"

"No!" Will pushed away from the table, his chair screeching on the floor loudly, as he bolted up and began pacing back and forth.

"I called my dad and told him where I was. He—he told me to drive back to where it happened and wait for him. So I did. After about ten minutes, he got there, saw what I'd done, checked Fay's pulse, s—shook his head," he swallowed deeply, halting for a moment before biting his lip, "he shook his head, said that she had no pulse and ordered me to go home..."

It was as if all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Deeks gaped at this revelation, horrified at the fact that not only was this act committed on an innocent young girl but with the help of a member of the community that was supposed to serve and protect. It made him sick to his stomach.

"And all I know is that he arrived home a couple of hours later, came into my room and told me that everything was going to be okay..." he rested his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

"The next morning I—I found her bracelet under the seat in the car...it must have fallen off when I put her—" he broke off with a shake of his head, "so I just put it in my pocket and kept it. The days after that, my dad coached me through what to say and—and made me convince Tommy to lie...say that I left right after the movie because I had to get up early..."

O'Connell nodded, making a note.

"And what about Tommy coming forward and confessing to the crime? Did you coerce—"

"No! I knew nothing about that...I don't know why he did that, my dad must have—" he frantically waved his hands, beginning his pacing once more, the gravity of the situation hiking up his anxiety levels.

"Tommy was always afraid of my dad..."

The detective made another note, her face grim.

"I—I went back for a while," he lamented, his gaze unfocused, "to…to where she was…" he trailed off, swallowing deeply, "Mr Brandel saw me there once. I—the way he looked at me…I think he knew…" he shuddered.

Deeks eyes lowered. Looks like his old man had put two and two together. Pity the bastard wasn't decent enough to report his suspicions. No, instead he decided to torture his cell-mate into thinking he committed the murder… With a shake of his head, the detective mentally added that to the list of things he hated about that man. Good riddance to him.

With one final nod, O'Connell gave a swift glance to the mirror before standing up and addressing both the lawyer and Jenkins, "Mr. Jenkins, I'm hereby arresting you on the assault of Andrea Benson and the murder of Fay Benson. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can be held against you in a court of law—"

Deeks turned away from mirror and glanced at Bates who looked just as grim as he felt.

They had their guy...and their other guy in the next room, ex-Lieutenant Jenkins.

This should be a win...

But it didn't feel like one.

* * *

"Thanks Eric, I'll pass that on," Kensi murmured, as she pulled into the parking space.

Hanging up and pocketing her keys, she stepped out of her car before turning on her heel and walking towards through the near-empty LAPD parking lot. To her right, she saw Detective Harris approach her, jaw tight, nostrils flaring.

"Detective," Kensi murmured to Harris, barely restraining and eye roll.

"Oh, I recognize that voice..." Harris jeered, "you must be the sexy secretary that answers Deeks' phone," he finished, looking particularly pleased with himself before the smug grin rapidly disappeared when Kensi folded her arms across her chest, regarding him with a stare worthy of Medusa.

"I'm his partner, not his secretary," she replied, her tone pure steel as she eyed the minute quivering of his Adam's apple as he silently drank in her general badassery.

"And as his partner, there are some things you need to know," she continued, stepping towards Harris, the steely tone never wavering, "Marty Deeks is one the best detectives this department has ever had the pleasure of having. Not only has he helped close dozens and dozens of cases over the years, but he's also exposed a mole in your department, helped solve a twenty year old homicide that had you and your partner scratching your heads and exposed the true colours of one of your own. How long have you been here again Harris? Longer than Deeks so...that means you must have served under Alf Jenkins, right?"

She took a step towards him, tilting her head, reflecting on the short, albeit interesting conversation she just had with Eric.

"Imagine, not having the slightest idea that he helped his own son dispose of the body of a seventeen year old girl and hide the truth all these years, slowly but surely being awarded for honor and bravery and 'all his good work' before finally retiring a decorated cop and a pillar of the community, all the while only being suspected of any wrongdoing by one, ONE of his men..." she trailed off, disgust now lacing her tone.

She took another step forward, staring right into Harris' face, jaw set, nostrils flaring, copying his previous expression perfectly.

"The name James Woodruffe ring a bell, Harris?"

At his clearly forced blank expression she snorted, not surprised that this pathetic excuse for a cop would feign memory loss rather than own up to his past mistakes.

"Well it should...aren't you one of the rookies back in '91 that reported his apparent 'erratic' behaviour when he tried investigating Will Jenkins? Weren't you the one that brought it to Alf Jenkins' attention that Woodruffe was, oh how did you put it?" she paused for dramatic effect, scratching her chin in a faux-pensive movement.

"Oh yeah!" she snapped her fingers before taking the last step and closing the distance, barely a foot between them, staring the detective down, her polychrome eyes shining in the moonlight, "you said he was 'losing his marbles' and was 'sniffing around the kid to try and get the boss's job.' And it was those comments, those snide, ignorant, untrue statements that not only helped ruin the reputation of a good cop but also helped a very bad cop get away with covering up a murder for over twenty years. You must be so proud," she halted, her nose wrinkling with disgust, "and yet, despite everything, you still stand there and—"

Suddenly Kensi was pulled back roughly by the arm, but before the unknown assailant could gain any distance between them, the agent whirled around and caught their wrist, twisting it harshly and wrenching it behind their back, shoving them down onto the hood of a cop-car, throwing her full weight onto their back.

"Oomph!" the man exclaimed as his face was slammed down onto the vehicle with considerable force. "Get off me you crazy bitch, you're assaulting a police officer!"

It was at those words, Kensi registered that it was none other than Detective Kinney that lay pinned underneath her.

"Oh, you mean how you assaulted Detective Deeks?" she asked, glaring down at the side of his face as he tried to look up and behind him.

"That—that was different," Kinney ground out, his breathing laboured as she kept the pressure on him.

"Really? Doesn't seem like it...I mean, from what I hear, Deeks was defending himself from slander and you went and made it physical...pretty crappy thing to do to your colleague if you ask me."

"He's not one of us," he snarled, venom dripping from his words.

Kensi nodded, lips in a thin line as she finally released him, watching intently as he stood up and turned to face her.

"You're absolutely right detective," she began, her eyes boring into him, "Deeks is nothing like you or your partner...he has integrity, honor and bravery, which is more than I can say for either of you," she finished, stepping back and turning away.

"Hey, I'm not finished with you yet," Kinney scrambled to follow her, his palm falling on her shoulder. Kensi stopped dead in her tracks, her back still to him.

"We still have—" whatever the detective was going to say was cut short as the agent shook off his hand and whirled around, her foot connecting roughly with his nom de plums.

Falling to his knees, Kinney tried to catch his breath as he stared up at Kensi's face, illuminated in the moonlight, her expression one of pure innocence.

"Oops..." she murmured softly, "my foot slipped," she smirked before turning on her heel and stalking off without a backwards glance, leaving both detectives open-mouthed and eating her dust.

Served them right. The bastards.

* * *

"My office Deeks, ten minutes," Bates said as they stepped out of the viewing room and into the hallway of the LAPD.

Deeks nodded, an unease settling into his gut as he scanned the place for any sign of his partner. He knew she was here somewhere giving a statement but he wasn't sure where. Digging his hand into his pocket, he went to press number one on his speed-dial when he heard his named being called or rather, his old name.

"Well if it isn't little Martin Brandel," the voice called from somewhere to his left.

Puzzled, Deeks turned and looked up, his mouth hanging open at the sight before him. There, not twenty feet in front of him, stood Alf Jenkins, accompanied by a uniformed officer, his hands cuffed behind his back.

"Jenkins," he murmured in reply, not really interested in having any sort of dialogue with this scum.

"You know, I remember you back when you were a kid..." he mused as the uniformed officer pushed him forward, down the hallway.

"Yeah, I remember you and your slime-ball father too...funny, there was one thing I always told myself whenever I'd come across either one of you," he snarled as he halted a few feet from the detective.

"Oh yeah? What was that?" Deeks asked, his eyes blazing, "I must not help kill any of his friends? 'Cause it looks like you broke that one..."

The elder Jenkins threw back his head and gave a humorless laugh.

"No, my main philosophy was and still is: you can never trust anything a Brandel says...they're nothing but cheats, drunks and liars, if your father is anything to go by anyhow," he glared, "so I got myself someone who could cut through your bullshit if we ever meet in court, isn't that right Logan?"

Deeks' eyes bulged as Logan Banks stepped out from behind Jenkins and the officer like some sort of creepy pantomime character, his smug smile practically radiating from his face.

"That's right, Mr. Jenkins," he agreed, his eyes never leaving the detective who was growing more furious with each passing second.

"You're representing that scum-bag?" he gritted, his jaw tightening so much it hurt, his hands balled into fists and shaking at his sides as Jenkins was pushed further past him and into another room by the cop.

"Well, I can't just have high-rollers and low-level gangsters on my bill, a cop or two sprinkled in is always a nice touch," he half-whispered, leaning right up into Deeks' face.

"A dirty cop who helped dispose of a seventeen year old girl's body after his son murdered her," he spat back, using his height to his advantage and staring down the lawyer.

"Now now, Detective, I won't have you slandering my client with your wild allegations," he tapped Deeks' shoulder nonchalantly before stepping around him and following Jenkins, a spring in his step.

Marty Deeks was fuming. His blood boiled in his veins as hot acid rose in his throat. He couldn't take much more, this, all of it, everything was culminating, snow-balling into one big mound of pent up rage that was just a ticking time bomb that would explode any minute now...

"Yo Deeks!" Detective Ryan Kinney yelled as he stormed into the bull-pen, halting a foot from him and shoving him roughly.

Tick, tick, tick...

"You misplace your balls or do they belong to your partner now?" he spat as Harris joined him, looking equally pissed.

"What are you—"

"I mean, how much of a pussy does a guy gotta be to get a chick to fight his battles for him?" Kinney cut across him with another shove to his shoulder.

Tick, tick, tick...

"And I mean seriously, the last thing I'd be doing if I had a partner as hot as Blye would be hiding behind her apron strings...I'd be banging her so har—"

"Shut the fuck up Kinney! Don't you dare talk about my partner like that you sonofabitch!" Deeks snapped, his knuckles cracking as his entire body began to shake.

Tick, tick, tick...

"Ooh, have I touched a nerve, Deeks? And here I thought you would've given up bedding your partners after what happened to Traynor—"

Boom!

Deeks lunged for Kinney, his fingers wrapping around his throat as he slammed him back against the wall, his fist rising to punch the godforsaken bastard in the mouth.

"Deeks!" Bates yelled, storming out into the bull-pen, not believing he was catching the same two detectives in a brawl less than 48 hours after the first.

"Deeks, my office now!" he pointed to the room with a glare. "And as for you two," he continued as Deeks reluctantly let go of Kinney and stepped past him, "I'll deal with you later..." before racing to his office and slamming the door in their faces.

"What the hell is the matter with you?!" he hissed, turning around to address Deeks who was frantically pacing his office, his breathing laboured as he tried and failed to calm the hell down.

"What's the matter with me? Are you serious! That guy deserves a hell of a lot more than a punch to—"

"I know, I know, I heard him...but that doesn't give you the excuse to lose your shit Deeks! It's been happening far too often since this case came up and I really don't know how we're gonna go forward if—"

"What's gonna happen to Alf Jenkins?" the detective cut across his boss, not in the mood to discuss his career right now as both Jenkins' words and Kinney's flashed through his brain.

"We don't have enough to charge him," he sighed, not happy with the change of subject.

Deeks gaped as Bates walked around his desk and took a seat.

"But—Will confessed! You heard him!" the detective shook his head, his mind racing a mile a minute as he reflected on the interrogation.

"It's a matter of he said, he said, Deeks...there is no tangible evidence that ties Alfred Jenkins to the scene and he denies knowing anything about it. Now Will? He's definitely going down, the lab took a sample of his hair and tested it against the hair found on the body and it was a match. That and his confession, those two things alone, may sway a jury but that isn't our job here..."

"And Alf Jenkins?"

"Like I said, no tangible proof that he helped dispose of her body. And the fact that he's a decorated cop is working against us. But, we are launching an investigation into his actions back then, his string-pulling when it came to the case, his discrediting Sergeant Woodruffe with the help of Harris—"

"But he gets away with aiding and abetting a murderer?"

"For now, yeah, it seems that way," Bates sighed, running a hand down his face before fixing his jumpy detective with a state. "You know..." he continued, "I'm really beginning to re-evaluate your ability to do this job without causing some sort of cluster fuc—"

"Excuse me, but I didn't 'cause' anything!" Deeks interrupted, his head snapping up, his tone dripping with venom.

There was a beat of silence as the two men regarded each other, one fuming, hands clenched tightly at his sides as the other took a moment to quietly contemplate, seemingly inwardly arguing with himself. After what felt like an eternity, the elder man's face lost a little of its steel edge, not quite softened, but grew a little less intense.

"But—" Bates held up his hands in surrender, "as much as I hate to admit it, you're a damn good cop, Deeks. Reckless and disobedient but, I gotta say, your determination and persistence to see this case to the end no matter what the cost to your personal well-being and career is admirable. Stupid maybe, but admirable.

"Now, we do need to have another word on protocol and proper procedure if we are going to avoid something like the careless actions you took tonight from every happening again, and I'm definitely gonna have to talk to Miss Lange about a number of factors but, after all that is said and done and you sort out whatever issues this case has uncovered in you with a shrink, I am fully prepared to reinstate you..." he finished, pushing his badge and gun across the desk, his eyes trained steadily on the blond.

Deeks took a step forward and glanced down at the badge. A bubble of laughter omitted from his lips before he could even think to stop it, surprising even himself. Bates cocked his head to the side as his detective erupted in a bout of humorless chuckles that shook his shoulders, his blue eyes bright with an almost hysterical gleam.

"You're—you're kidding me, right? This is some sort of joke?" he asked, a fanatical grin on his face.

"Of course I'm not kidding, why would I—"

"I mean, you actually think I still wanna be anywhere near here after everything that has gone down?" Deeks cut across him, throwing up his hands, all trace of humor absent from his tone as he snatched up his badge and stared down at it.

"After the blatant ignorance and idiocy of Kinney and Harris, the unwillingness to cooperate, along with the hostility towards my partner and me. Not to mention the huge overlooking in evidence, the inefficient interviewing of witnesses and the small fact that Harris helped practically bury the lead in the first place as well as destroy the reputation of one of the best cops this place has ever seen!

"But even after all that, no, there's still something so much worse than deliberately making a case cold, ruining someone's reputation and overall shoddy police work. And what's that? Oh yeah, the fact that just because someone like Alf Jenkins happens to be a 'decorated cop' he could get away with covering up a murder! When the very nature of the job is, correct me if I'm wrong Lieutenant, to serve and protect!

"People like Alf Jenkins are a disgrace to the profession and to the human race and I don't want to even serve under the same profession as scum like him anymore! Reinstated? You must be out of your mind. Thanks, but no thanks. Consider this my resignation..." he took one last glance down at the shield that once meant the world to him, but now seemed hollow and threw back down the badge before storming out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

He could feel the many eyes glued to his back as he raced through the bullpen, pumped full of adrenaline as an odd weight lifted from his shoulders. Not even the sight of Harris and Kinney standing at the end of the hall, looking as smug as ever could deter him.

"Boss finally wise up and fire your ass?" Kinney asked as Deeks made his way towards him.

"Something like that, comes with a plus side though, I won't have to deal with your ugly face anymore," he beamed as he strode past him before halting, his back to them.

"Oh but Kinney, just one more thing..." he whirled around in a flash and punched the detective as hard as he could in the stomach, before straightening up and practically skipping out of the precinct, the man's winded cries music to his ears.

Well, if that didn't help brighten this hell hole of a day just a little, nothing would.

* * *

"Thank you Agent Blye," Detective O'Connell offered her a smile as she finished taking her official statement and showed her out.

Kensi nodded in reply and made her way down the hallway, only to be blocked by a throng of people standing around staring at something. With a furrowed brow, she caught sight of what appeared to be Detective Kinney, doubled over and yelling something through gasped breath.

Before she could bask in that particularly pleasurable sight, a smug, unfamiliar voice sounded from behind her.

"Looks like Dead-Beat Deeks has done it again..."

Frowning, Kensi turned around as was met by a 5'10", stocky, brunet with an unnaturally white grin.

"Excuse me?" she replied sharply, the shock of everything adding to the ever-rising frustrating feeling of helplessness that was beginning to engulf her.

"What I mean is...this isn't the first time he lost his shit," he gestured to Kinney, "and quit careers," he finished before offering her his hand, "I'm Banks, Logan Banks, an old friend of Marty's from law-school."

Kensi stared at him, then at his hand until he dropped it, the smug smile faltering a little, his words resonating in her ears but not making an ounce of sense.

"What do you mean quit careers? Where is he?" she asked, trying to not let the mounting sense of panic invade her voice as she scanned the precinct hurriedly.

"Oh you mean you missed it? Damn, that's too bad," Banks replied, growing more animated as their conversation continued.

Kensi blanched, remembering everything Deeks told her about this guy, a cold chill creeping up her spine.

"I'm sorry; I didn't get your name, Officer...?"

"Agent Kensi Blye, Detective Deeks partner," she responded blandly, already sick of his company.

A fleeting flash of awkwardness passed over the lawyer's face before he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, his voice certainly less such of itself than before.

"Oh, I see...hey, think you could do me a favour?"

Kensi could not believe the gall of this guy. To first insult her partner, then turn around and ask for a favour? Just who did this guy think he was?

But before she could put those thoughts into biting words, he'd already continued as if she agreed.

"Could you ask him for me, I mean really ask him – why he quit being a lawyer to become a cop? I mean, I know what he said in the heat of the moment but come on, all that fighting for the little guy bullshit—"

"Look around you Banks, I wouldn't be spreading your distaste of Deeks' career choice too loudly if I were you," Kensi leaned down to whisper in his ear, her tone leaving no room for argument, "and this is just a wild guess, but ever think he quit being a lawyer because he couldn't stand the idea of waking up one morning and realizing he turned into you? Nothing more than a lousy 'get out of jail free' card for every dead-beat criminal out there?" she asked, her whisper turning to acid.

"Have a nice life undoing the good work of law enforcement Banks, I hope the pay's worth it..."she finished before turning on her heel and storming off, her head held high.

She had enough of arrogant and ignorant bastards to last her a lifetime.

* * *

It was funny how a little thing like quitting your job made you drastically see the world as an entirely different place. Ever since he could remember, he'd drive along in his car (or walk, cycle, skate) down the streets of LA and almost subconsciously scan areas for any potential crimes being committed. It was just something that was built into him, even before he was a cop; he'd always been hyper-vigilant, always on alert to any potential danger for him or the people around him. He maintained it helped him in his career.

But now, as he drove silently along in the early-darkness a new man, no longer a cop – while that vigilance was still there (it would never actually leave him no matter how much he changed aspects of his life) he found that he took the time to look, just look at his surroundings, bask in their unique charm. Which proved to be fortunate for him tonight as had he not been surveying the many goings-on out on the street as he stopped in traffic, he wouldn't have seen the young boy, all alone, sitting at a bus-stop.

He doesn't know what compelled him, but before he knew it, he was changing lanes and slowing down to a stop. Gently, he pushed open his door and climbed out, shuffling over into the dim glow of the street light, towards the boy, hoping his movement didn't startle him.

As he drew closer, the boy's head raised, catching sight of him and instantly tensing. Shoving his hands in his pockets, the boy shuffled a little on the bench as Deeks heaved a sigh and sat down beside him, not too close.

They sat there in silence for what must have been a full five minutes before Deeks decided to break it, his voice quiet and calm.

"It's a cold night, huh?"

The boy's head snapped to his left, his eyes catching Deeks' for a split second before darting quickly away.

"Yeah..." he murmured softly, his shoulders hunching.

Another stretch of silence past before Deeks forced himself to continue.

"It's late too...how did you get out here?"

"I walked," he responded almost immediately, a little more defensive.

"By yourself?" the ex-detective couldn't help but ask, even if it did seem a little redundant.

"I'm eleven," the boy's eyes darted to him once more, the defensive tone growing stronger.

Deeks merely nodded, his eyes trained on his hands, not wanting to aggravate him. Another bout of stillness followed before he mumbled gently, injecting as much friendliness and non-threatening tones into his voice as he could:

"Where are you headed?"

The boy visibly tensed and Deeks feared this may have frightened him. He was usually so good with kids but found that nobody could come across as easily trustworthy this late at night or in this part of town. He was so worried that he may have spooked him that he almost didn't hear his reply.

"To see if they really put him away."

The response startled him and it was at that precise moment it hit Deeks who this boy was and why he seemed so familiar.

"Your mom must be worried about you..." he softly said, feeling the shift of weight on the bench as the boy shuffled.

"Come on buddy, let me take you back to—"

"I'm not supposed to go with strangers," he interrupted firmly, eyes staring straight ahead.

Deeks nodded, remembering saying those exact words himself when he was a kid.

"You're right...would you like to call her to come pick you up?" he asked instead, holding out his cell-phone.

The young man stared at it for a moment, his dark eyes glistening before he looked up into Deeks' face.

"You're a cop, aren't you?" he inquired, his jaw set firmly.

Deeks' eyebrows rose. This kid had good instincts.

"Yeah, I am," he inwardly grimaced as the voice in the back of his mind loudly corrected him, no you're not. Not anymore!

"I don't like cops," the boy boldly said, chin stuck out stubbornly.

Well, what exactly did he say to that?

"Why?" seemed like the only logical question.

"When they come to my house they—they never do anything," he stammered, his hazel orbs finding Deeks once more.

Marty's heart panged painfully in his chest at the sheer devastation in the boy's voice. Looking into his eyes, the ex-liaison saw himself, so young, so innocent and yet, so untrusting. This boy had seen unmentionable hardship in his life, so much heartache that no one should suffer in their entire life, never mind just their first eleven years.

"Listen buddy...I know you're angry and you have got every right to be. But your mom must be going out of her mind with worry looking for you; can I give her a call and let her know you're okay?"

The eleven-year-old paused, drinking in his words for a moment before guilt passed over his young face, a short nod following before he took Deeks' phone and entered his mom's number.

"Thank you," Deeks gave him a small smile before listening for the dial tone.

"Hello?" a worried voice half-yelled into the phone.

"Hi, Ms. Woods? My name is Detective Marty Deeks, I'm here with your son Dylan at the bus stop opposite the hospital...don't worry ma'am, he's safe," he assured the frantic mother over her anxious sobs.

"Oh thank god! I was just talking to my other son's doctor and when I turned around he was gone! Is he okay?" she rambled, clearly beside herself.

"He's fine Ms. Woods, here, I'll put him on," he passed the phone over to Dylan, who took it, drawing a deep breath.

"Hi mom, I'm so sorry, I'll come right back in," he sniffed into the phone, a trail of tears falling from his eyes.

After a few moments, Dylan hung up the phone, handed it back to Deeks and stood up, a forlorn look on his face.

"Thanks..." he mumbled, stepping away from the bench and towards the street.

"Dylan, wait," Deeks stood up, his body on autopilot, a thousand thoughts running through his mind as words began falling from his mouth:

"I just—I want you to know that...it won't always be this bad. It will get better, you will grow up and get stronger and—and Marcus White will become a distant memory, someone that you'll never have to worry about ever again because he's going to jail for a long, long time for what he did to your little brother. He won't be able to hurt anyone anymore, not you, not Bobby and not your mom...I can promise you that."

Dylan stared up at Deeks, the tears on his cheeks dried, his face alight with determination and a new strength. It seemed like he grew up to a man in the last five minutes. It gave Deeks hope that this kid would be okay, he would survive, just like he did.

"Thanks Detective Deeks," a small, timid smile spread across his face.

"You're welcome," he replied instantly, rising his hand in a wave and watching cautiously as Dylan returned his wave before turning on his heel and crossing the street, heading straight for the hospital entrance.

In the distance, Deeks saw a frantic blonde woman race to him, her arms thrown wide, enveloping her son in a large, warm hug. Warmth filled his chest at the very sight and suddenly he was catapulted back to a time where his mom did exactly the same thing for him.

With a gracious smile, Deeks felt the first surge of hope rise in him. If that family could make it through pain and hardship, anybody could...including him.

He'd just had to take it one day at a time.

* * *

Quiet murmurs reached the ears of Sam Hanna and G Callen as they made their way into OSP. Surprisingly, despite having a quite uneventful day (well, if anyone asked anyway) they both could feel the exhaustion creeping up on them. The case was over; the case that they weren't officially allowed to investigate and they were both relieved. A murderer had been brought to justice. A twenty-two-year-old cold case closed. For the most part, it was a good day.

With tired eyes, they glanced up as they saw Eric and Nell descending the stairs, slowly making their way down into the bullpen. Silently, the four people looked at one another, knowing that in some small way, they all helped contribute to the win today, helping close a case that meant something so much to a dear friend of theirs...and yet, something felt just so wrong without that friend being there to celebrate with them.

The absence of Deeks and Kensi was felt throughout OSP. The team feeling scattered, broken, not for the first time. It was never a nice feeling, this odd limbo-sense of knowing a bad guy had been put away but at a cost to one of their own, just like when they got rid of the Chameleon but lost Callen for a stretch.

They weren't aware what Deeks' status was anymore, when or if he'd get his job back for his actions over the course of the last few days. And it was that thought that plagued the mind of every single team member as they regarded each other.

"Why so melancholy?" the voice of Henrietta Lange asked as she entered the building, her forlorn agents the first sight she saw.

"Any word on Deeks?" Callen asked, his shoulders tensing.

The operations manager fixed him with a quiet stare before lowering her gaze, her tone even as she replied, "no, not yet."

Eric and Nell reacted physically to this news, both shuffling awkwardly whilst Sam and Callen managed to reign in their emotions.

"Poor Deeks... I can't imagine what he's going through," the intelligence-analyst mumbled softly, almost to herself.

"Mr. Deeks is strong, he will be fine," Hetty assured instantly, not hesitating in the slightest before deftly changing the subject.

"Now, you have all had a long day...it can be quite tiring being idle," she mused pointedly, a humorous twist to her lips, "I suggest you all go home and get a good night's sleep. I can guarantee that tomorrow will be certainly more eventful."

They all nodded, managing tired smiles, Eric and Nell waving their goodbyes as Sam and Callen packed up their stuff.

"Hey Sam, wanna go for a beer?" Callen asked as Hetty made her way towards her office.

Sam reflected on the last few days, his wife and daughter floating into his mind, bringing a smile to his face.

"Nah, not tonight partner...I'm gonna go home, have an early night, maybe tuck my baby in...you're welcome to come over, watch the game? I got that beer you like."

Callen threw his partner a smile as he realized what it was he was doing. They were all being a little introspective since Deeks' troubled family life came to light. It had made him think of his own solitary existence; made Sam think of his family, his relationship with his daughter...this case (and all the revelations it brought with it) wouldn't be something either of them would forget anytime soon.

"Thanks man, that sounds great," he accepted his offer, knowing that these people, his team, however dissimilar to him, were his version of family and if this case thought him anything was never underestimate the power of family whether it's to help you through grief or help cause you grief, the bonds connecting people are always powerful.

So he accepted the invitation and his place with his unconventional family. Together, he walked with his partner out of OSP, his thoughts flying to his colleague, friend, hoping that he found some solace tonight, perhaps with his family, his partner Kensi, so that he could face whatever the morning would inevitably bring him. Hoping that when he came back (not if) Callen could make things right between them again. Deeks deserved at least that (and a hell of a lot more.)

Henrietta Lange watched as her two unusually silent agents walked out of the building, heading back to Sam's for a well-deserved meal and some rest and relaxation. With a small sigh, she found her thoughts back with the agents that were missing today, Ms. Blye and Mr. Deeks, hoping that after the all they'd been through these past few days, they could find some peace tonight.

Picking up her phone, she realized she could not wait any longer to know the fate of her liaison and dialled the familiar number. After two rings, a tired voice answered:

"Bates."

"Lieutenant Bates—"

"If you've called to talk me into reinstating Deeks, you're too late, he's left," Bates interrupted her, sounding jaded.

The ominous confirmation of her worst conclusion rose in her stomach. It appeared she had won the bet with herself after all. Mr. Deeks had indeed tendered his resignation to the LAPD...

"On the contrary Lieutenant," she responded, pushing down her feelings towards this new information, instead changing her tact altogether, "I'm calling to see if you will talk me out of something..."

* * *

The blond man didn't bother to stifle his yawn as he nursed his beer sitting at the bar in O'Brian's Pub. It had been one of the longest days in the history of long days and had he not been contacted by Woodruffe and asked to meet him here, he was sure that he'd be at home right now, trying and failing to sleep.

"You look like hell," a gruff voice came from his left as a stool was pulled up beside him.

"And you look like Magnum P.I." he smirked as Jimmy heaved a hearty laugh.

"Believe it or not boy, that's not the first time I've heard that..."

"I bet," he agreed, sliding a beer in front of the elder man.

"Finally drinkin' time," he mused before taking a small sip and glancing at his companion.

"How's Andi doin'?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Jimmy caught his eye, "she's fine Marty, got her leg checked out by a doctor, it was a clean cut, not too deep, shouldn't get infected so—"

"I know you're the one that called her," he interrupted, his voice morphing from concern to firmness.

The ex-sergeant looked incredibly uncomfortable as he shifted in the chair.

"I know, I shouldn't have...if anything ever happened to her I never would have forgiven myself, the fact that crazy bastard stabbed her in the leg was enough to give me a heart-attack," he frowned, clearly feeling guilty.

"Yeah well, like you said, she's fine, no point beating yourself up over something that didn't happen..." he trailed off, clapping him on the shoulder, "so, what were you saying before Rose's call interrupted us, anyway?" he asked, knowing that Woodruffe expected him to forget all about that.

His tense shoulders gave him away, a small sigh escaping his lips as he appeared to not bother to try and feign ignorance or change the subject.

"You said that you tried your best to look out for me, what did you mean?" Deeks nudged him gently.

With a quick sidewards glance, the elder man cleared his throat and shifted on the stool.

"They're just the words of a foolish old man Marty; I wouldn't dwell too much on it..."

"But...?"

Another small sigh escaped from him, his eyes now trained on the small TV behind the bar.

"When you were a kid," he began, still not looking at Deeks, "I spent a lot of time patrolling your neighbourhood, you remember that right?" he asked and at his companion's nod he continued, "well, during that time, I was called out a lot...for noise complaints, drunk and disorderly reports and most of the time—"

"They came from my house," Deeks finished, a knot tightening in his stomach.

"Yeah..." Jimmy confirmed with a tap to his chin, "and over that time, I got to know your father well, figured out what kinda man he was...and didn't like what I saw. So after a while, I found myself finding reasons to stop in and checking up on you and your mom and over time, I came to care deeply for you both..."

Deeks' eyes widened slightly as the other man confessed this, a sense of anticipation settling into his chest.

"Your mom was a fascinating woman and we had the most interesting conversations...I couldn't help but grow attached to her and she for me, I think. Don't get me wrong Marty, nothing ever happened between us," he held up his hands, his voice firm, "she was still a married woman. But sometimes, I won't lie; I entertained the idea of taking her and you away from all the hurt, all the pain that Brandel exposed you too. And it was that desire, that overstepping that—"

He broke off suddenly, a flash of pain marring his face. Alarmed by this, Deeks rested his hand on Woodruffe's shoulder, silently urging him to continue.

"Your father started asking questions...got suspicious," he began, swallowing deeply, his heart hammering in his chest, "and I guess after one too many times seeing me talking to your mom out on the street, one too many times seeing the extra coffee cup on the sink...he snapped..." Jimmy trailed off, his voice growing quiet his head hanging lowly.

Deeks waited, sensing the build-up in the ex-sergeant, just knowing that he was psyching himself up for the final piece of his story, so he remained silent, hand squeezing his shoulder in quiet support.

"It was only when I got the call that night...a report of shots fired in your neighbourhood that I realized just how much danger my actions, however well intended, were putting you both in. But never, I swear Marty; I never thought when I got there that I would be faced with the scene that met me. I was convinced that he had finally lost it and shot you both...I saw the bruises on your mom's arm, the scratches on your shoulders, the black eyes, the broken wrists, I knew what was happening but I was powerless to stop it, to get tangible proof that it was him, until I arrived on scene," he sighed, his head finally raising to meet Deeks' eyes, "and I saw a terrified, wide-eyed, eleven-year-old boy, gun still in shaking hands, aimed right at that monster. It was only then that I knew Gordon John Brandel would be sent away..."

Silence followed as they stared at one another, Woodruffe's words sinking into the depths of Deeks' mind, flashes of that old, buried memory still as fresh as the day it occurred.

"You were there," he stated rather than questioned, "that night...a lot of it is still a blur but—I knew someone, someone strong and kind, wrapped me a blanket and led me to the ambulance where my mom was waiting...I remember feeling so...safe, for the first time ever, in the arms of an adult other than my mom. It was quiet, or maybe it wasn't, maybe I couldn't hear the sirens over the pounding of my heart-beat in my ears, but it was still, I know that. There was no more shouting and I really couldn't ask for more than that," he finished, squeezing his companion's shoulder.

"You made my mom laugh and that was more than my father could ever hope to achieve. Thank you for that. It's because of you that I dreamed of being a cop; the first seed was planted when I first saw you tell her a joke...her face lit up, her eyes shining brighter than I'd ever seen. That was when I decided that when I grew up, I'd be a cop and keep people safe, but also make them laugh...and that's all down to you," he murmured, just as he saw Kensi enter the bar, her arm being caught by Eddie who asked her something.

Woodruffe stared at him, his silent thanks being expressed in his face, in the warmth of his eyes and the clap on the shoulder. There was another beat of silence before Deeks' gaze wavered from his and was again drawn to his partner. Woodruffe picked up on his divided attention and followed his eye-line, a knowing smile on his face.

"You know, when I was your age, I never believed in true love..."

The blond's eyes snapped back to him for a moment, a confused look on his face.

"Oh yeah? What changed your mind?"

Woodruffe's smile grew larger, if not a little sad.

"I met the right woman..."

Deeks nodded for a moment, about to ask the question they both knew the answer to but the elder man cut across him.

"What about you? Do you believe in true love?"

Immediately, the ex-liaison's eyes were again drawn to his partner, who was now throwing her head back and laughing heartily at whatever Eddie had send to her.

"I didn't..."

"Oh yeah, what changed your mind?" Woodruffe turned the question on him.

A small smile broke out on Deeks' face as he heard (even from across the bar) his partner's snort of laughter before her signature rolling of her eyes.

"Ah...I see," Jimmy smirked knowingly, "it was your girl over there."

"What?" he gaped, his eyes immediately darting over to see if his partner heard Woodruffe's comment before replying in a hushed but firm tone, "Kensi's not my girl."

"And with that attitude she never will be."

There really was only one answer to that doozy.

"We're partners...it's against the rules," he replied, wondering not the first time, just on how many occasions he had to fall back on that particular excuse.

"Rules were made to be broken," Jimmy waved, taking a large gulp of his beer.

"Says the decorated ex-cop."

"The decorated ex-cop with no wife and kids. Trust me son, you don't wanna be married to the job. It's no way to live..."

Again, the settled into a short silence. Neither party knowing quite what to say to that.

"Take it from the man who thought he had all the time in the world...get your girl before it's too late. Happiness comes first. Leave the job if need be," he poked him gently in the arm.

"You tellin' me to quit being a cop?" Deeks asked, discomfort settling in his stomach as the taunting little voice sang too late!

"I'm tellin' you nothin' boy. I'm advising you make a choice, your career or your happiness. If it's career then you can forget we ever had this conversation, chalk it up to a drunk old man being nosy. But if it's happiness, well, you could always transfer to another precinct or... if you love both too much then sweet-talk your boss 'cause that girl ain't gonna hang around forever, partner or no partner," he let that statement hang before he gulped down the last of his beer and stood up, clapping him again on the shoulder, offering him a small grin.

"Don't lose my number Marty; I could use a friend who knows all the new places in this town now that I've moved back. In the meantime, think about what I said..." he finished before giving a little wave and making his way over to Kensi, shaking her hand and walking out into the night.

Deeks watched as he left, ordering another beer as his partner nodded to Eddie and made her way over to him, sitting down on the stool Woodruffe just vacated.

"Hey," she said quietly, picked up the beer that he slid toward her and taking a long sip.

"Hey," he replied just as lowly, his sixth sense kicking in, knowing that his partner was going to confront him about something.

"So, Eric and Nell found some interesting facts about Alf Jenkins in and around the time of Fay's murder," she surprised him by taking the indirect route of conversation.

"Oh really, what's that?"

"They dug into his financials and found that he bought a new car one week after she disappeared. Tracking the car lot they found that he traded in his old car when it was practically brand new...hinky huh?"

"Very hinky, Velma," Deeks agreed, knowing where she was going with this.

"So, that begs the question, what was wrong with his original car?" she continued, taking another sip out of the bottle.

"Maybe it was used to transport a dead body and he wanted to get as far away from it as possible?" he hypothesized with an air of sarcasm.

"See, my only problem now is," Kensi spun around on the stool, her polychrome orbs penetrating his with a sharp gleam, "I'm not sure who to report this to now...considering you're no longer a cop," she murmured, trying and failing nonchalance.

And there it was. His suspicions confirmed.

"You heard about that huh?" he asked, breaking eye-contact, wanting desperately to delay the inevitable.

"When are you coming back, Deeks?" the agent asked, apparently not even considering the idea that he was done for good.

Marty found that it would be cruel to extinguish that little sliver of hope in her, but at the same time, not making any promises he couldn't keep. So, he gave a half-truth:

"I—I don't know. Just...no getting shot or blown up or kidnapped okay?" he tried to inject some humor into the quickly rising tension.

"Is this real? Or is it another cop out?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly, no doubt recalling the incident over a year before and not wanting to fall for it again.

"Nice pun," he couldn't help but retort.

"Glad you find this so amusing," she muttered, her jaw tightening.

"Look, Kens," he sighed, turning to her, his body radiating defeat, "I...I can't be a cop right now, just like I couldn't be a lawyer back then..." he trailed off, not liking the dejected tone and trying to lighten it by finishing with, "what can I say? I go through phases."

"Being a cop isn't a phase Deeks...it's who you are," she responded instantly, her voice so strong with conviction.

"Is it?" he asked honestly, "I'm not so sure anymore."

Kensi gaped at him, clearly not believing her ears.

"But Deeks—"

"I'm serious Kens...if being a cop now, especially in the LAPD means that I gotta be like Kinney or Harris or Jenkins then I want nothing to do with the career. So yeah, I quit and no, I don't know if I'll go back...all I can tell you is that for now, I'm done. So please, I'd really appreciate it if I can drown my sorrows alone..." he trailed off, his heart panging painfully in his chest as he made his split decision.

Woodruffe may have inspired him to be a cop when he was a kid. But he wasn't a kid anymore; he wasn't blinded by idealistic dreams and unrealistic notions. Everything that had gone down over this case had seriously disillusioned him about his career choices and while his quitting may have been sudden, it wasn't completely unfounded. So, yes, Woodruffe may have been right. About everything. About life and about love too. But that didn't mean he was going to drag down his partner with him (cop or no), not now. Not when he was still in this frame of mind. She deserved better. So he did the only thing he could...push her away.

He could feel her surveying him, could practically hear the gears turning in her brain as she fought to find a response. Her eyes narrowed, drinking in his tense shoulders, his defensive stance and knew a losing battle when she saw one. Fine. This round may go to him. But the next would be hers.

"Fine, do your wallowing Deeks, but just know, this isn't over..." she stood up, staring down at him before her face softened, "you know where I am..." she let the rest of the sentence hang in the silence before turning on her heel and exiting the bar, without her usual confident flare.

The ex-cop didn't have it in him to watch her go. Instead he ordered another beer and spent the next half-hour mindlessly staring at a football game. It was when he raised his hand to order his seventh beer in a row that his quiet wallowing was disrupted.

"You wanna watch that drink kid, too many and you'll find yourself out on the street in your underwear thinking you're Superman..." a very familiar voice sounded from behind him.

Eyebrows flying skyward, heart jumping into his throat, Deeks spun around on the stool, his bright blue eyes meeting a pair of identical ones, his mouth falling open to let out a gasp:

"Mom?"

**A/N: I want to take this time to sincerely apologize for the delay in updating. I'm so sorry guys, truly I am. Real Life got in the way unfortunately :( With prep for another year in college (thesis in my sights ahh!) and a multitude of other things (a person near and dear to me going abroad and other family obligations) things are just a little crazy at the moment. But because I love you guys, I will update as fast as I can even when I'm back in college :D I'll aim for at least monthly if I can manage it. Hope you understand :) **

**Thanks again for the continued support! You're all amazing!**

**Oh and just to let you guys know, this 'Deeks, M' series was probably the largest in the entire story. Don't worry; the chapters won't be too GIANT after this. This was just a once off in the massive-word-count department. Any chapters will be long, but not massively huge...and on that fantastic double-entendre, I'll bid thee adieu! ;)**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

**"Did you seriously just steal the hippy guy's song from that TV show and change it to Kensi?" his partner asked, eyebrows raised, arms folded. **

**"Uh—"**

**"You did! That's Annie's song. You showed me that episode, idiot," she interrupted with a poke to his shoulder.**

**"Ha yeah okay, you caught me...it's not my song," he admitted, rubbing his sore arm, "but I sing it better though, right? **

**Silence filled the apartment.**

**"Kens?"**

**Please Review :D**

**~Cortexikid x**


	27. Tacit Part I

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance **

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 27: Tacit (Part I)**

**A/N: Hey guys :D so here's the beginning of the aftermath of the events from the 'Deeks, M' series. There will again be a mixture of humor in with the serious so I hope you like it!**

**THANKS TO **_**silversparklybooks**_** for the word suggestion! :D & HUGE PROPS again to **_**SuperDensi427**_** for the fantastic case suggestion! :D**

**Disclaimer: I own neither NCIS: LA nor Community, they belong to Shane Brennan and Dan Harmon. "Annie's song" belongs to Harmon and the lovely Eric Christian Olsen. :D**

* * *

**WOTD: TACIT; Tac·it _adj._ Silent, unspoken, understood or implied without being stated.**

"Alright Scott, okay, yeah—yeah I'll get back to you...no man, I'm with my kid right now I can't—look, I'll call you back," a tall, black-haired man sighed before hanging up.

"You gotta go, Daddy?" a small, blonde girl of about seven asked with a dejected tone, her olive eyes squinting against the evening sun as she stared up at him.

"No pumpkin, come on, let's go down to the pier," Nick Clarence reassured his daughter with a soft smile before gently taking her hand.

As they gazed down at the waves crashing against the rocks below, Nick took a deep breath and felt a calm settle into his bones, a calm he hadn't felt in quite a long time. It was here, in the evening sun, standing on a pier with his young daughter that the man finally felt at peace, as if everything was right with the world; every bad thing that had happened over the last two years had somehow been cancelled out by this brief but wonderful moment in time. It was beyond tranquil, it was therapeutic, every second spent with his little girl always was. He wouldn't trade this for the world.

"Daddy," Lily Clarence spoke suddenly pulling him from his trance by tugging on his sleeve, "why are those men wearing masks? It isn't Halloween..."

Nick stared down at his daughter in confusion before following her eye-line. A silent gasp escaped his lips as he saw three figures in the near-distance, clad all in black, wearing balaclavas and carrying pistols, heading straight for them.

"Lily, stay behind me," Nick warned under his breath, stepping in front of her and spreading his arms, shielding his daughter from view, adopting a defensive stance as the three figures came to a halt a few feet from them.

"Mr. Clarence, come quietly with us and no one shall be harmed," an unknown and heavily accented voice came from the figure that stood in the middle, the only one out of the group that didn't have a gun raised.

"I—" suddenly, two of the masked individuals grabbed either arm of the Master Sergeant and roughly tugged him away from his daughter.

As if on autopilot, Clarence's training kicked in along with his leg that connected roughly with the thigh of the attacker on his right as his elbow connected with the nose of the one on his left.

"Daddy!" Lily screamed, stopping him dead in his tracks. Slowly, he lowered his fist and turned around.

There, he was met with one of the most terrifying sights he'd ever seen. His little girl, mouth open, olive eyes wide with fear as her shoulder was clutched tightly, a knife held to her throat.

"Don't hurt—"

"Ah, ah, ah," the accented voice interrupted with a warning tone, stepping back and dragging the child with him, the blade never leaving its position at her neck.

"Come with us Mr. Clarence and your daughter remains unharmed..."

* * *

"One, two, three, four," Kensi Blye muttered as she began the last stages of her fitness regime.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed up and down off the floor quickly, hooking her left foot around her right ankle. A bead of sweat made its way down from her forehead, trailing between her eyebrows and descending her nose until the droplet clung at the very tip, like a wayward branch at the edge of a cliff.

It had a hell of a long day. There were no active cases at OSP so her day had been filled with paperwork, the occasional coffee and more paperwork. The ambience in the bullpen was a little off-kilter, stifled with an odd sense of stuffiness, as if there weren't enough oxygen in the room. And yet, whilst everyone else seemed overheated, she couldn't get warm.

An unrelenting shiver had seemed to settle into her bones, ravaging her body at random intervals and increasing the sense of unease in her. But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, it wasn't a faulty A.C or the tediousness of the work, no, it was the change in dynamic, an absence in the room. One that caused a sharp pain to pierce her chest as her eyes rose to the familiar spot opposite her only to find it empty.

Deeks had quit...

She hadn't expressed the words aloud yet, despite being questioned by both Sam and Callen as to when exactly Deeks would be 'reinstated', but it had finally hit her a few hours ago as she found her eyes travelling to his seat for the fifth time in ten minutes, only for her heart to thud uncomfortably as again she was met by nothing but air. A sickening rose in her stomach, a twist of her gut, not unlike the hilt of a knife, it hit her like a ton of bricks. After three days with no running commentary, no not-so-subtle flirting, no teasing and certainly no banter that he was gone, really gone. Indefinitely.

"Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen," she continued, her heartbeat hammering in her ears.

She's lost track of time from when she first started working out. It seemed to be one of the only things to drown out her thoughts, the uncomfortable notions that had plagued her over the last 72 hours. It was the only time where everything fell away, the worry for her partner, the anxiety of what might be, the anger at seven ignored phone calls and the pain at being shut out, shut away when all she wanted to do was help him, all she wanted to know was if he was okay.

"Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three..."

As much as she hated being chained to a desk, Kensi almost didn't want them to catch a case. She knew, just knew that being out, chasing down a lead, is where it would hit her so much harder. She was once again partnerless.

First, there was the agonizing disappearance of Dom, then the subsequent loss of Dom, then the temporary arrangement with Deeks before he went deep uncover, then the more permanent partnership after he agreed to be their liaison. But the agent took it all in her stride, the upheaval, the change and had finally gotten her comfortable routine with Deeks only for him to alter it again by quitting...leaving.

And this time, it was just too much. This time it felt like abandonment. No matter how hard she tried to rationalize it to herself, to remember that it was nothing to do with her, that it was something that Deeks decided for himself, that he was no longer happy with his career, _that _voice started calling to her. A voice she hadn't heard in a long time, not since she was a lot younger, not since Jack...

_You should've done something more..._

_You're supposed to help him..._

_This is your fault..._

"Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thir—ah!" Kensi hissed as her hand slipped from under her, causing her torso to smack heavily down onto the hard-wood floor. The droplet of sweat that clung to the tip of her nose landed on her forearm, leaving a ghostly trail down her skin.

With a wince, she thumped the floor with a clenched fist, her jaw set, her eyes narrowed in frustration. It seemed that excess-exercise wasn't working to drown out her thoughts anymore...perfect. She had tried just about everything to get her brain to shut the hell up but nothing was working, bad TV, reading and now exercise were not distracting enough. Just what was she supposed to do with all the thoughts that were attacking her brain at the most inconvenient times during the day? What she really needed was—

Before she could finish that particular thought, her cell phone began to vibrate across the coffee table. Blowing a tendril of hair out of her face, she hobbled up off the floor, rubbing her abdomen slightly before snatching it up and pushing the accept button.

"What's up, Eric?"

* * *

The glistening sun was setting over the horizon as Agent Kensi Blye made her way out onto the pier. There was a russet hue in the sky, a chill in the dusk air and it heightened the sense of foreboding as the various law-enforcement officers came into view. The agent pointedly ignored the LAPD white n' blues and focused on her colleagues off to her left.

"Hey Sam, what we got?" she asked, all business, arms folded against the breeze.

"Abduction of a marine, Master Sergeant Nick Clarence," he nodded at her before turning his attention to his partner that halted behind Kensi.

"Apparently Clarence is the son of a friend of Granger's...which explains why we were ordered straight here and not back to Ops," Callen murmured, his eyes sweeping over the police officers.

"The LAPD are handing the case over to us," he continued, finally catching Kensi's eye, _something_ in his gaze. Something that silently screamed that he wanted to mention Deeks but knew better not to.

With a gentle clearing of her throat, Kensi nodded in acknowledgement before her trained eye caught something off in the distance. Her heart sank into her stomach...

"Who's the little girl?" she asked, the sinking feeling growing worse.

Both Sam and Callen followed her eye-line, their expressions turning grim.

"That's Lillian Clarence...his daughter and our sole witness," Sam replied, his tone dejected.

Kensi grimaced, scuffing her foot on the ground, her eyes lowered. She hated cases that involved kids. No one should have to go through what she'd seen victims go through, but especially not a child...it just wasn't fair.

"We've been trying to contact Mrs. Clarence but she's not picking up, so a couple of uniforms have gone to get her so she can take Lily home and sit down with her, see if she can tell us anything," Sam continued, his face pensive, his thoughts clearly a million miles away, perhaps with his own daughter.

"That was nice of them," Kensi mumbled, her brow furrowed, wondering why the LAPD would be helping them so willingly, especially after everything that happened with Deeks and the Benson case.

"It is..." Callen smirked, "apparently it was on Lieutenant Bates' orders, once they deliver Mrs. Clarence, the case is ours."

The NCIS team exchanged glances before Sam nodded with indignation and made his way over to the officers to get an update, leaving Kensi and Callen standing alone on the pier.

The two were engulfed in silence, the only sound being the occasional crashing of waves from below them. After a few moments, Kensi felt a shift in ambience just as Callen opened his mouth, his eyes searching hers.

"So...how's Deeks? He get reinstated yet?" he asked levelly as they watched the young girl, Lily, be bundled into the back of a police car.

Kensi just kept staring ahead, her gaze glued to the terrified child's tear-streaked face. A hilt of irritation seeped into her veins as her colleague voiced the oh-so-familiar-question yet again. This made a half a dozen times in the last 72 hours. She gritted her teeth, barely restraining an eye roll. Today was definitely not going to be a good day.

"Don't you think he'd be here with us if he was reinstated, Callen?"

Before her colleague could respond, a young uniformed officer raced over to them, radio clutched in his hand, looking to Callen and Kensi as if they held all the world's answers.

"Agent Callen! I just got word from the Clarence house. Nick Clarence's wife Jessica has been found unconscious and badly beaten…"

* * *

Marty Deeks heaved a sigh as he raised the remote to change the channel again and again and again. A loud whine from Monty alerted him that maybe he should just pick one show and stick with it, so with a fleeting glance to his canine companion, he held up his hands in surrender and dropped the remote, opting to apologize with a scratch to the mutt's ears.

"I gotta say Marty, I love what you've done to the place...very bachelor-chic," Angela Deeks commented as she walked out of the bathroom and into the living room, towel-drying her hair.

"Uh thanks mom," he murmured, shaking his head to try and rid it of its fogginess. Mindlessly watching TV for the last three days was starting to take effect on his usually active brain.

"Yeah," she nodded, her cerulean eyes surveying the room with hawk-like precision, "I'm expecting Andie MacDowell to show up any second now..."

"Mom!"

"So," she sighed, ignoring him and plonking herself down on the couch, "are you under house arrest or are you actually free to roam Los Angeles?"

Deeks' eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head to look at his mother.

"Not that I'm not grateful but...why are you here, mom?" he asked, deflecting her question, watching intently as she leaned a little into him.

"Does a mom need an excuse to visit her only son?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow, doing precisely what he did to her and not giving a direct answer.

Evasion, thy name is Angela Deeks.

"Andi told me she called you," Deeks changed tactic, hoping to catch her off guard.

But Angela was the epitome of calm, unsurprising really. She always had a damn good poker face. He'd learned from the best, after all.

"She did call me, asked for your new address…" she trailed off, patting Monty absentmindedly before picking up the remote and flicking through the channels. Apparently that was all she had to say on that matter.

"And…?" Deeks was forced to ask after a long stretch of silence.

"And I gave it to her," she responded simply with a shrug of her shoulders.

The blond shook his head; he was suddenly reminded of the fact that this woman was where he really did get all his good genes, skills and attributes. She was the master of not only evasion but deception and most of all, when it came to hiding her true feelings, emotions, her inner most thoughts encased in the depths of her mind. She was married to a monster for twelve years, being the brave rock for her son, protecting him in the only way she knew how and putting up with sheer hell, all the while plastering on a smile for any passer-by, a wave to a neighbour as if she had not a care in the world, it was enough to win anyone an Academy Award. Still, he never thought she'd ever do it to him.

"Mom, I know there's something you wanna say, so why don't you just say it?" he asked wearily, not particularly in the mood to have this conversation but knowing that it had been steadily brewing within her the last 72 hours she'd been in his apartment.

Just before she opened her mouth to reply with what was sure to be a witty retort, a very familiar TV show came on the television. Suddenly, without warning or preamble, Deeks' mind was transported back to a time, not too long ago where he sat in this very spot with another feisty brunette that meant the world to him…

"_Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, Kensi..._

_Ooh, Ooh, Oooooh Kensi's song..."_

_He strummed the guitar lightly, serenading her with his near-perfect pitch. Her expression however, was not as perfect as he'd like._

"_Did you seriously just steal the hippy guy's song from that show and change it to Kensi?" she asked, arms folded, brow furrowed, lips pursed, utterly unimpressed._

"_Uh—"_

"_You did!" she exclaimed with an accusatory tone, her finger poking his shoulder, "that's Annie's song. You showed me that episode, idiot."_

_Well, damn. He'd totally forgotten about that particular TV marathon. And here he was, thinking he'd be smart and impress her with his lyrical genius...only to be outed as nothing but a cover-artist and a shoddy one at that. Still, he had his good-looks, charm and raw talent to fall back on._

"_Ha yeah, but I sing it better though, right?" he asked, a grin on his face, knowing the familiar twinkle would be ever-present in his eyes._

_All he received was a quirked eyebrow._

"_Kens?"_

"_It's also where you got 'Sugar Bear' from. Yeah Deeks, I caught that too."_

_Double damn. Busted! He knew there was a reason she was so good at her job. It was time for some damage control. When in doubt, go on defense._

"_Oh what, so I'm the only one allowed to show my appreciation for good TV?" he asked with a tilt of his head._

_His partner rolled her eyes to the ceiling before sinking back into the couch and stretching her limbs. Deeks couldn't help but follow her movement, utterly transfixed, despite her aesthetically pleasing form being clothed in baggy sweatpants and an overly large T-shirt. The woman could wear a trash bag and still manage to be the most enchanting being he'd ever seen._

"_Haven't you ever heard that imitation is the lowest form wit?" she asked with a smirk, clearly still stuck on his stealing of a 'hippy guy's song' from 'that TV show.'_

"_Haven't you heard that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?" he countered just as cheekily._

"_You wanted to flatter a fictional character?" she laughed, clearly finding his argument amusing._

"_I wanted to flatter you," he responded quickly, unthinkingly, the heat of his words travelling to his cheeks, colouring them a bright crimson. _

_He was such an idiot. _

"_Yeah well, try again Lloyd Dobler," she grinned, standing up and walking to his kitchen to get another beer._

"_So standing outside your house with a boom-box isn't completely outta the question then, huh?" he called after her, "good to know Kens…good to know…"_

"_Don't you even think about it Deeks!"_

Back in the present, Angela Deeks quietly surveyed her son as they sat in silence in front of the TV. A small, gentle smile had formed on his face, one that reached his eyes, the first she'd seen in the entire time she'd been in Los Angeles. She couldn't possibly let it go unmentioned…

"What are you thinking about?"

"Huh?" he murmured, snapping out of his reverie as he met his mother's gaze, quickly morphing his expression into something more neutral.

"Ahh," she smiled an all-knowing smile, "or should I say, _who_ are you thinking about?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he dismissed, standing up and away from the couch, depositing his glass in the kitchen.

But Angela was not being deterred that easily and just followed her son, hot on his heels as he tried his utmost to put any amount of space between them.

"You know…Andi had a lot to say about you," she murmured, leaning an elbow on his counter, propping her chin in her palm.

"I thought you said all she wanted my address," he asked with his back to her, turning on the faucet and rinsing the plates they used for dinner.

"Well, I haven't seen the girl since you broke her heart fourteen years ago so I wasn't just going to hang up on her," she shrugged with a hint of _something_ in her tone, the same something that always managed to get under Deeks' skin.

"I didn't break her heart mom," he rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling as if he were twelve again and being scolded for not cleaning his room, "we both decided that staying together and trying to make it work long-distance just wasn't going to work, you know that," he finished with an air of exasperation.

"But now she's back in town," Angela smiled, walking around to stand next to her son, laying her palm on his shoulder, "and she was always great at making you smile, no matter how bad of a day you were having…"

And there it was. The subject they were so artfully dancing around, his mood. He had spent the last three days cooped up in his apartment watching bad TV with Monty as his mother came and went, pretending that she didn't notice the fact that all he managed to do each day was catch up on the soap operas he vehemently denied he watched and scrape something together for dinner. As for why he hadn't been in work, nor communicated with anyone from work? Well, that was getting harder and harder to ignore…

"Just how bad of a day do you think I'm having, mom?" he sighed, his tone void of anger, lilt with dejection, his shoulders sagging as he waded his hands through the sudsy water. It seemed their dance had reached its peak and the elephant in the room was making itself known. With a squeeze of his shoulder, she cleared her throat and took up a cloth, drying the cutlery as he continued to wash.

"Why don't you start from the beginning? You know what I always say Marty, a problem shared is a problem halved…"

* * *

Harsh light flooded his senses as the black bag was reefed off his head. With a wince, Nick Clarence squinted, blinking rapidly, waiting for his eyes to adjust. In a blurry haze, he glanced around him, finding himself to be tied to a wooden chair in a small, dank room, lit with florescent light with no windows and only one heavy, steel door to the far right. After a moment of surveying his surroundings, his eyes darted to his left, where he could hear the steady breathing of his masked companion of the last few hours.

"Hello Mr Clarence," he murmured, his voice soft, as smooth as velvet, his accent not from a foreign land as the previous individual's but rather an American tone, perhaps mid-western.

"W-where am I?" Clarence asked, clearing his throat, finding it to be dry and raspy from dehydration and lack of use.

"That's on a need to know basis Mr Clarence and I'm sure you can ascertain that you don't need to know," came his reply, the condescension not lost on either party, the impeccable elocution only heightening the feeling, "no, the bigger question you ought to be asking is when we are going to let you go from wherever you are…" he trailed off, sitting back in the wooden chair, folding his muscular arms over his broad chest, wrinkling his what appeared to be expensive Armani suit.

That got the Master Sergeant's attention.

"And that would be?" he asked calmly, meeting the dark eyes steadily, his face the epitome of calm and determination.

"When you tell us what we want to know…so, let's get started shall we?" the masked man clapped his hands together, his tone pure business, "first thing's first, if you ever wanna see your precious little girl again, tell us about Operation Sinon…"

* * *

The soft beeping of a heart-monitor filled the small hospital room as Kensi Blye and Sam Hanna entered, their gazes falling onto a small, limp, blonde woman, her pale skin covered in discoloured, purple tinges, her left eye fully closed, her right olive eye peering at them in quiet apprehension.

"Mrs Clarence?" Kensi spoke gently, approaching the bed as Sam stood at the foot, waiting patiently.

Upon her nod, the agent continued, "I'm Agent Kensi Blye and this is my colleague Agent Sam Hanna, we are in charge of your husband's case. We were wondering if you would be up to answering a few questions about what happened?"

At another nod, Kensi shared a look with Sam before asking gently:

"Can you give us a brief description of your attackers?"

After ten long minutes, Jessica managed to gasp out as much about the event as she could recall, occasionally pausing to chew on her chapped bottom lip, her tongue peeking out to wet her mouth, swallowing deeply, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she concentrated greatly on not succumbing to sleep.

"Thank you Mrs Clarence," Kensi smiled softly as she answered the last of their questions, catching Sam's eye again and preparing to leave the woman to rest.

Before the brunette could follow her colleague out of the room however, her arm was caught. Looking down, Kensi saw the bloodied knuckles of Jessica Clarence as she wrapped her fingers around her wrist.

"Find…find my husband Agent Blye, please…he's all Lily and I have…" she gasped, desperation in her tone as her uninjured eye widened with alarm.

"We'll do everything in our power to get your husband back, Mrs Clarence," Kensi replied, careful not to make any promises she couldn't keep, before softly patting her hand, quietly backing out of the room and closing the door gently behind her.

With a sigh, the agent turned around to the hustle and bustle of the hospital corridor, finding that Sam and Callen were waiting on her.

"She give you anything?" the latter asked as they prepared to leave.

"There were three assailants," Sam began, nodding goodbye to the security detail posted outside the hospital room, "they busted into the house around six-thirty so maybe a half-hour before Clarence's abduction…"

"They beat her until she told them where her husband was," Kensi continued from where Sam left off, her tone grim, "and they left her for dead, heading straight for the pier…"

The trio made their way out into the parking lot, each stopping at their respective cars, turning to regard each other.

"They wore masks, barely spoke other than to ask where Clarence was and one of them had an accent, that's all she could give us," the brunette finished, running a tired hand through her hair.

The two partners exchanged a glance before meeting her mismatched gaze.

"Guess that leaves just one other witness," Callen replied with a frown, "Lily…"

* * *

Three pairs of shuffling feet made their way into OSP, necks creaking, shoulders rolling, yawns being stifled as a petite, bespectacled brunette met them, staring up at each in turn.

"Long night?" she asked rather unnecessarily as her team began packing up their stuff to head home for the night.

"Not the longest we've had," Callen replied, several other long nights coming to mind, some of which spent in places a hell of a lot worse than the office, beach or hospital corridor.

"Not the shortest either, Mr Callen," Hetty responded matter of factly, "I suggest you each go home and get some sleep, Assistant Director Granger will be expecting a progress report in a few hours and I for one am not going to be the one to tell him that we got squat because my agents hit their snooze buttons..." she trailed off, her tone suggesting a warning but the twinkle in her eye giving her away, "meanwhile, you will all be alerted to any news of a ransom call or any information on Mr Clarence pertinent to his disappearance so keep your phones nearby…"

At that, she walked away and left them to make their way out. With another roll of her neck, Kensi picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, nodding to her colleagues as they exited the building and fully preparing to do the same.

"Oh Ms Blye—" Kensi stopped dead in her tracks and slowly turned on the spot, looking down to meet the familiar hawk-like orbs.

"Yes Hetty?" she asked politely but tiredly, desperate to get home and rest. Between the mountains of paper work, the extensive work out, the catching of this unfavourable case and the unrelenting reminder of the absence of her partner hanging over her like a dark cloud, all she wanted to do was go to bed for a few hours and try and chase the darkening thoughts away.

"I just wanted to inform you that—" the operations manager paused for a moment, her expression tinged with a flash of something but before Kensi could decipher it she was continuing, "there will be a new presence here tomorrow…"

Kensi frowned, wondering where she was going with this cryptic information and why she wasn't talking with someone like Callen instead of her.

"Hetty what—"

"A new agent will be joining the team," Hetty interrupted firmly, twisting her hands, her gaze falling somewhere to the left of Kensi's head.

"A new agent? Why do we—"

"He is in need of field experience and you're currently without backup. As such, he'll be partnered with you until further notice. Good night, Ms Blye."

With that, Hetty turned on her heel and made her exit, leaving her agent gobsmacked, lost for words and silently fuming.

It had only been three days since Deeks left. Three! And they were already trying to replace him? No, no way!

Suddenly, as if she were a dead battery that had been recharged with a surge of electricity, she sped after Hetty, her mind oddly clear as she had one objective and one objective only: making it crystal clear that they were not going to stick her with a 'new partner.' She already had a partner dammit and no rookie yuppie looking for his big break was going to try and take Deeks' place!

Over her dead body…

"Hetty you can't—" she broke off as she stepped out into the night air and found herself staring at nothing but darkness.

_The woman was a frickin' ninja…_

"What's up Kens?" Callen asked as he stood at the car, Sam already in the driving seat.

"You guys see Hetty?" she asked quickly, scanning the place and coming up empty.

"No, why—"

"I can't believe this!" Kensi growled, kicking the gravel in annoyance.

"Kens what—"

"You know, this never would have happened if you hadn't provoked Deeks. He'd still be here and I wouldn't have to be stuck with some new guy—"

"Kensi, what the hell are you talking about?" Callen interrupted with a raised hand as he stepped closer to her.

The brunette rolled her eyes, a humourless laugh escaping her lips.

"I'm talking about the fact that because you pissed off Deeks so much he lost it not only here but at the LAPD too, I'm now stuck with a new partner! That's what I'm talkin' about Callen," she snapped, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and pushing past him, towards her car.

Sam had stepped out of the Camaro at this point and was watching the events unfold with interest.

"Look Kensi, I'm sorry for how it all went down with Deeks and I plan on making it right with him when he gets back—"

Kensi whirled around, fire in her eyes, venom dripping from her lips as looked from Callen to Sam and back again, "don't you get it?! He isn't coming back!"

A stunned silence followed her biting words.

"What are you talking about? He was just suspended, he's gonna be—"

Kensi cut Sam off with a curt shake of her head.

"He quit."

* * *

A surge of adrenaline soared through her veins as she slammed on the brakes, climbed out of the car and flung the door closed, racing her way across the parking lot and up the line of stairs Rocky-style before skidding to a halt at the elevators. Perhaps it was the frantic thoughts firing through her tired brain or the wild thumping in her heart, but part of the agent just wanted to run, to try and do something, anything to escape that unrelenting voice in her head. But running didn't work either.

"Oh, you again," came a voice to her left. With a frown, Kensi looked down and was met by a very familiar, wizened old woman with wispy grey hair and beady almost-black eyes.

"Mrs Davis," she nodded, pushing the elevator button rapidly, again and again.

"The elevator is broken," the elder lady smiled sweetly as the brunette rolled her eyes, nodded to her and took off like a bat outta hell towards the many flights of stairs.

With a smirk, Mrs Davis watched the rapidly retreating back of the agent, barely supressing a gleeful chuckle as the elevator doors swung open not a moment later.

Exercise was for the young.

Meanwhile, Kensi found that climbing dozens and dozens of steps was working wonders on her overworked brain, finally quietening the voice (wow, could she sound any crazier?) as she pulled open the door onto Deeks' floor and slowly made her way to his apartment, 21B.

It was at that moment, as she halted at the familiar dark-green door, did she realize that she had absolutely no clue what she was going to say to her partner…ex-partner. He had been dodging her calls and practically told her to get lost when they spoke last in O'Brian's pub, he had made himself clear that he wanted to be alone. And as a good partner, she should respect his wishes.

But as a great partner? That wasn't gonna fly…

With a determined knock, she raised her hand and knocked firmly, twice. After a moment of no response, she leaned forward, resting her ear against the door to listen for any sign of life. Maybe he was out?

"Deeks?" she called, not too loudly (she learned her lesson after Mrs Davis' many, many complaints) adding another knock.

It was at that moment did she hear some shuffling inside the apartment and couldn't help rolling her eyes. He was seriously still going to try and dodge her?

"Deeks, I can hear you in there, come on, open up."

No response.

"Seriously? You're just going to ignore me? How old are you?" she asked, trying to inject some teasing in her tone, not wanting him to know how much his shutting her out was effecting her. Hurting her. Not that she'd ever admit it.

Still no response.

It was time to pull out the big guns.

It was time for some brutal honesty.

"Deeks come on…I made a promise to myself, when you first got that call from Banks. I promised myself that I would be there for you, in whatever way you needed me to…because that's what partners do. That's what you would do if it were me. And you're the best partner around," she finished, biting her lip as she realized what she just said. But she didn't regret it, she meant every word.

Just before she could reach up to knock again, the door opened slightly, one piercing blue eye peeking out.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Blye."

"If I'd known all it would take for some face time with you was to inflate your ego I would have done it days ago," Kensi murmured as she stepped into the apartment, arms folded, not heading straight for the couch as per her usual routine but opting to remain standing.

"Hi, I'm Marty Deeks, have we met?" he asked sarcastically, holding out his hand for a faux-handshake before letting his arm drop limply to his side, ever aware that her dark eyes were boring a hole in him.

"So, what's up Kens?" he asked nonchalantly, feeling as if he were a specimen under a microscope as she continued to stare at him silently.

"Oh nothing's up really," she began, adopting the same nonchalance, "you know, except for the fact that my partner is hell-bent on ignoring the outside world for the rest of his life."

The blond frowned at that, not only at the words but at her tone. It was not at all what he was expecting from her.

"I'm not ignoring the outside world—"

"Oh so it's just me then?"

A silence engulfed the room, hanging over them like a thick, dark cloud. Just what the hell did he say to that? He could hear something behind her words, a pain, a hurt that she was trying so hard to mask, to pretend wasn't there. He knew he was the cause of this, that shutting her out was bringing up painful memories for her and he hated himself for it. But he didn't know what to do. When he asked her to leave that night in O'Brian's, he was so convinced that he was doing what was best, for both of them, that he needed to go through this alone and that she did not need the burden, didn't deserve it.

But now, looking at her standing in the middle of his living room, concern, anger and pain in her eyes, in her voice, he started to second guess himself.

"I'm sorry Kens, I didn't mean to shut you out—"

"Yeah Deeks, you did. I know what you're doing…you're playing the martyr act, thinking you're 'sparing' me from some great burden by dealing with everything by yourself. But guess what? The lone hero act is something I got over a long time ago so you can just—"

"Wow. You're one to talk," Deeks interrupted, a surge of anger flooding his veins at her words.

"You say you're over the lone hero act? Really Kensi? Just how long ago was it that you went off the reservation and played Ramboette on your dad's case?" he knew as soon as the words left his mouth that they were a big mistake but the effect of being holed up in his apartment for days and having no outlet for his anger was fuelling him to continue:

"And you're pissed at me for ignoring a few calls? Don't you think that's a little—"

"I'm pissed at you for giving up," she grit, her jaw clenched, looking as if he'd just slapped her.

He knew if he looked closer he'd see past the hard wall between them and see the cracks in her foundation, the unsteady, shaking walls that were so close to crumbling. But this was neither the time, nor place.

"And besides, you wouldn't let me be the lone hero when I 'went off the reservation' if I remember correctly so consider this me helping you beat up the bad guys, saving the damsel in distress and riding off into the sunset."

"Wait," Deeks held up a hand, "I'm a damsel in distress?"

"You're a partner in distress," she corrected, stepping closer to him, an almost pleading look in her eye, "_my_ partner in distress and I just want to make sure you're going to be okay…that you'll find a way to make it past everything and come back to work…"

Deeks ran a hand through his hair, glancing to the ceiling as if it held the answer to how they could possibly continue this conversation without either saying something they'd regret later.

"I'm not coming back Kens…that LAPD just isn't for me anymore, isn't what I want to be associated with," he murmured, the words causing a sharp pain to pierce his chest. He never thought he'd see the day where being a cop would cause him this level of discomfort. There was a time where being a cop was who he was.

Just who the hell was he now?

"That doesn't mean that you gotta quit OSP though. You could always—"

"Become an Agent?" he asked, trying his best not to sound bitter.

Kensi was taken aback at his tone. The way he said it, he made it sound like it was some sort of dirty word, some less-than-favourable occupation.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" she asked, her voice defensive.

Deeks shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't sure if he had what it took to be an NCIS agent. He'd only ever identified with being a police officer, had always viewed the specialized branches with cautious eyes, weary patience until he joined OSP. But to be an agent full time?

"My new partner starts tomorrow," she said suddenly, spitting him out of his reverie.

Light eyes met dark as they stared at one another; the shock of her words struck him dumb.

"Never thought I'd see Marty Deeks speech—"

"Didn't take you guys long to replace me, huh?"

Kensi took another step toward him, her eyebrows furrowed as she heard the hurt in his tone, the flash of it on his face, reaching his eyes, dulling them.

"No Deeks, that's not what—"

"Well, I'm sure things will work out great with you two Kens," he walked past her, ignoring any sound of her protests, "you'll have a new 'thing' in no time."

He didn't have to turn around to know that those words had hit home. Kensi gaped at his back, now it was her turn to be speechless. An uncomfortable feeling rose in her chest, bursting out and engulfing the room. Deeks merely kept his back to her, sipping from his glass and trying to ignore the fact that that line that he promised himself he wouldn't cross was now a dot in his peripheral vision. He was an ass.

But before he could backpedal, a loud thump came from kitchen followed by a round of curses.

"Dammit!"

Kensi cleared her throat, shuffling her feet awkwardly as she realized that they were not alone in the apartment.

"I—I'm gonna—"

"Oh hello there," a tall, brunette woman with cerulean eyes and rosy cheeks smiled, entering the living room with a sheepish look on her face.

Deeks whirled around and looked from the woman to Kensi and back again.

"Uh, Kensi Blye this is Angela Deeks…my mom," he watched intently as the two shook hands.

"Oh so you're Kensi, I've heard so much about you," Angela beamed, patting her hand gently and looking to her son. Upon seeing his clearly forced expression she took a step back and held up her hands. It seemed that she had walked in on quite the conversation.

"It was wonderful to finally meet you Kensi, you must come over to dinner sometime and give me all the gossip on my son…anyway, I'll let you kids get back to whatever you were talking—"

"Oh no, that's alright I was just leaving. It was great to meet you too Angela, Deeks I…" she trailed off, eyes lowered, shaking her head before offering a wry smile to the elder woman and turning on her heel.

"Kensi—" Deeks followed her out the door, watching as she halted in her tracks, waiting with her back to him for him to continue.

But word failed him. He didn't know what to say, didn't know where to start, to begin to apologize, explain how he felt, what he'd been going through so he just watched, as her shoulders sagged dejectedly.

"I'll see you around…partner," she half-whispered before continuing towards the stairs, forgoing the elevators and turning the corner, out of sight.

With a sigh, Deeks watched her go, the rising sense of despair in his chest before dragging his feet back inside and sinking into his couch cushions, ever-faithful Monty by his side. He knew it was wrong, he knew he was being unfair and even a little bit pathetic but right now, this is exactly what he needed. A healthy dose of mind-numbing nothing before he went back out into the big, bad world in search of a new life-choice. Whether that was with or without NCIS (and everyone that went with it) would just had to be something he'd figure out later.

In the following few hours, Angela acted as if she didn't notice the change in her son, his sudden dip in mood, his withdrawing into himself so unlike him (who had grown into his usually chatty self earlier that day) and just bid him goodnight, kissed his forehead and made her way to the guest room, leaving him in the company of Monty and The Three Stooges.

It was just around the time where Moe went into battle against Clam Chowder that a knock sounded at his door. Monty's head jumped up from his knee, his dark eyes looking to his owner in wonder, they almost saying exactly what Deeks was feeling.

_I really hope that's Kensi…_

"Hey Kens," Deeks began already as he made his way to open the door, "I just wanna say I'm really sorry for what I said, I was being a total ass and—" the blond was cut off as his eyes landed on a very familiar, very tall, very brunette, very upset-looking woman who was very not-Kensi Blye.

"Andi?"

**A/N: 10 House-Points to anyone who gets the two references to two separate 1989 films :D Oh and if you're wondering where the random Community reference came from: I was re-watching season 1 of Community the other day and I realized that Vaughn (Eric Christian Olsen) called Britta (Gillian Jacobs) 'Sugar Bear' and inspiration struck!**

**Don't worry, the Densi angst is very temporary! **

***Shameless pimpage* If you like my dorky referencing, head over to my other fic "Partners In Crime Fighting" for the prequel to that particular conversation between Deeks and Kensi :D**

**Oh and I'm back in college now guys so the updates will be a little sporadic, I'm so sorry! But I still love you all so I'll do my utmost best to update as soon as I can :D Oh and some chapters will surely have references to episodes in season 4 so yeah...SPOILERS AHEAD!**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"**You love him, don't you?" Angela asked, fixing the brunette with a knowing stare.**

"**He's Marty Deeks...he's kinda hard not to love."**


	28. Infelicity Part II

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 28: Infelicity (Part II)**

**A/N: Hey :D Here's part II of what I'm calling the aftermath of Deeks, M. Hope you enjoy!**

**NOTE: Very slight spoilers for 4x02 ahead!**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine folks. **

* * *

**WOTD: INFELCITY; In·fel·c·it·y **_**noun**_**. ****Unhappiness; misfortune**

In a flash, she gripped either side of his face, pulling him down into her embrace, their lips crashing together in a frantic, feverish kiss. Deeks' brain short-circuited as they stumbled into the apartment, she pushing him backwards towards the couch, one hand raking through his hair as the other found its way up and under his shirt. It was only when he felt the couch hit against the back of his legs did his brain catch up with his body and he forced them apart.

"Wait," he gasped, surprised to find that his hands had migrated to her hips without his knowledge. With a shake of his head, he fought to clear his foggy mind, "we can't, you're hurting and—"

"You're hurting too..." she whispered, her breath bouncing off his cheek as she stared up at him, her dark eyes glassy with unshed tears, "I don't want this because I think it's somehow make me feel better. Today already did that. No, I want this for an entirely different reason..." she trailed off, her nails scraping along his lower back.

Deeks bit his lip as his heart did the conga in his chest. Was this really happening?

"But—"

She cut him off with another breath-taking kiss, biting his bottom lip, begging for entrance as she undid his tie and slipped it out of his collar, letting it fall softly to the floor. Deeks sighed, his body relaxing, letting himself get lost in the kiss, one of his hands reaching up to tangle in her chestnut hair as her tongue danced with his, her nimble fingers beginning to quickly unfasten his shirt buttons…

* * *

_Three Hours Earlier_

Marty Deeks stood in front of his bathroom mirror, straightening his plain black tie and folding down the collar of his shirt. He took a quiet moment to take in his appearance, grousing that he looked more like a waiter than a man fit to attend a funeral but there wasn't much he could do about it now, considering he had to leave in ten minutes.

"Well, don't you look handsome," a familiar voice said from behind them.

He looked up, catching his mother's eyes in the mirror before smiling softly.

"The scar really adds to my badassery huh?" he chuckled, rubbing the small Band-Aid that covered the wound on his cheek that he received from Kinney's tackle a week before.

_Had it only been a week? It felt like an eternity ago._

"Oh yeah Shaggy, I wouldn't mess with you, you might steal my Scooby Snacks," his mother replied with a roll of her eyes. Her son decided to respond with a very mature sticking out of his tongue.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence then; Deeks gently washing his face and brushing his teeth as his mom watched on. It reminded them of a time, years ago now, where she would stand in the doorway of his room in their old house and wait whilst he got ready for school. It had been one of the only quiet moments in their daily routine, the sweet few hours in the morning where Gordon was passed out from a night of drinking, steadily snoring on the couch as his wife and son took advantage of the peace and made pancakes and talked quietly about school and crushes and which Ninja Turtle was the best and why.

"You know, even if you're not a fan of mine, I think your hair looks nice," he spoke after he dabbed his face with a dry towel.

"Thank you Farty Marty," she beamed, throwing him a wink before going to fix breakfast.

"How many times do I gotta tell you not to call me that mom!?" her son yelled after her, trying and failing to wipe the small grin that had formed on his slightly-shaven face.

His mom was just what he needed today. The next couple of hours were going to be tough…

* * *

"What do you mean he's not coming back?" Eric Beale asked, a petulant frown on his face as he looked from Sam to Callen and back again.

The partners exchanged a glance before the former heaved a sigh, resolving himself to the fact that he'd more than likely have to go through this a couple of more times until the tech-analyst grasped the concept.

"I mean he's not coming back, Eric. Deeks quit the LAPD, meaning he also severed all his liaison ties with NCIS," he said slowly and firmly, watching grimly as Eric glanced to his own partner, Nell, who looked just as downtrodden as they all felt.

"But I mean, it's not like he was fired or anything right? So he could still come back and…" Nell trailed off, realizing how fraught she sounded.

"Technically he could come back whenever he wanted, but it's up to him. If Deeks doesn't want anything to do with law enforcement anymore then there's not much any of us can do about it…" Callen replied grimly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Kensi Blye's heart sank into her stomach as she overheard her team's conversation as she stood outside OSP. She had been dreading having this exact conversation with Nell and Eric and found that she was glad that Sam and Callen had beaten her to the punch. She had not slept a wink last night after she made her hasty retreat from Deeks' apartment and frankly was not in the mood to listen to questions she just didn't have the answer to.

So, taking a deep breath to try and mentally psych herself up for today, a day where she had to fully accept that her partner was not going to walk through the door any second and tell her it was all an elaborate plan to which she would proceed in kicking his ass into next week, she took the last few steps forward into Ops, forcing a neutral expression on her face.

"Eric, Nell, what we got?"

Had it been any other day, any other time, she may have found their reactions to her entrance funny. Eric must have jumped at least three feet in the air whilst Nell gaped, eyes wide as saucers as she fumbled with her tablet.

"Uh hey Kensi, yeah sure um…here's what we managed to capture off a security camera from across the street from the pier, Nell?" Eric finished, gesturing to his partner as she pulled up the footage.

The agent merely folded her arms and ignored their reactions, taking her place beside Callen and Sam, making sure to avoid eye-contact.

"So, this is footage of about a half-mile from the crime scene. We see what is clearly a masked driver with what appears to be three figures in the backseat. We've managed to isolate the driver's plate and traced it to a car registered to a Ms Emily Zaras," Nell pulled up the driver's licence photo of Emily alongside the security camera footage.

"She doesn't look like the type to orchestrate the kidnapping of a Marine," Callen voiced the thoughts of all the occupants of Ops as they peered up at the petite, auburn-haired woman.

"Well, she hasn't reported her car stolen and has been ducking calls…she could be involved," Eric shrugged, knowing that they'd seen people even less unsuspecting than Emily Zaras commit terrible crimes.

"Or," Kensi stepped forward, her eyes trained on the young woman's photo, "we could be looking at another victim."

* * *

Soft droplets of rain descended on the many occupants below, basking their assorted black clothes in a fine sheen of translucent liquid. A tall blond man stood silently, his head hung lowly, his eyes downcast as a priest read a passage from The Bible. Dirty, sodden grass squished underfoot, the mud a fine mush, ruining many a polished shoe as dozens of legs lined around an open grave.

"And so we finally lay Fay Elizabeth to rest, may she now be at peace," the priest, Father Nolan concluded, closing his Bible softly and gazing down at the coffin that was being slowly lowered back into the earth.

A loud sob disrupted this quiet, sombre moment and Deeks found his attention being drawn towards the source. Standing directly opposite he and his mother was Andi, eyes downcast, silent tears trailing down her cheeks, patting her mother awkwardly on the shoulder as she heaved yet another sob.

Deeks' heart panged painfully in his chest as he witnessed the fresh wave of pain etched on the elder woman's face as her daughter's body was finally united with her final resting place after twenty-two years of being missing. As if sensing his gaze, Andi glanced up and met his eyes, her dark orbs shinning bright with unshed tears. Noticing her daughter's sudden split attention, Mrs Benson too looked up, following Andi's eye-line.

A hint of anger tinged her features as she stared at Deeks but after a moment, it seemed to dissipate, fade, her grief shining through, extinguishing her anger towards the ex-liaison as she quickly glanced away, her focus on her daughter's coffin once more.

"Come on," his mom whispered gently, clutching his elbow, "let's give Andi and Margaret some space so they—" suddenly, Angela broke off, something catching her eye in the distance.

Deeks frowned at his mother's speechlessness and turned his head to see what she was looking at. Slowly, a small smile began to form on his face as standing not thirty feet from them, leaning against an oak tree and looking every bit like Tom Selleck in his hay-day was none other than Jimmy Woodruffe.

Angela leaned into her son, whispering against his shoulder, "is that—"

"Yep," Deeks interrupted with a nudge to her elbow. "Go talk to him mom, I'll meet you back at the car."

He walked away, not giving her the opportunity to argue, barely able to contain his chuckle as he heard his mother's distinctive voice say to Woodruffe in a faux-snarky tone, "well if it isn't Sergeant Smartass."

The rain was easing off now, the sun peeking out from behind the clouds, soft, shimmering rays basking the graveyard, a large, colourful rainbow forming overhead. Deeks couldn't help the growing smile on his face. He wasn't ever a particularly spiritual person (his past did tend to taint any faith he may have had) but even he could not deny that there was a feeling, something calming and gentle in the air that gave him the sense that somewhere, Fay really was finally at peace. Nobody deserved it more than she.

That thought had not even left his brain before his eyes caught onto a very familiar figure approaching him. Crossing his left ankle over his right, he leaned back onto the hood of his car and waited as Andi made her way through the throngs of people, halting only when she was within ten feet from him, an enigmatical expression on her face.

"Hey," she offered him a small, sad yet buoyant smile, "you wanna get outta here?"

* * *

The team quickly gathered their things from the bull pen and started towards the door. Kensi, keys in hand, was the first through the threshold when she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

"Kensi what—"

Callen broke off as Hetty Lange came into view, standing directly in their path.

"Hetty," he acknowledged with a nod of his head and a quick glance to his partner.

"Mr Callen, Mr Hanna, Ms Blye," she addressed them each in turn with a formidable stare of her hawk-like orbs.

"Uh…something we can do for you?" Callen continued as Sam shrugged as if to say, 'hey, don't look at me.'

"I'm sure there are a multitude of things that your team can do for me Mr Callen, many things come to mind in fact, the most pertinent being your mannerly cooperation when Mr Monroe arrives…" she trailed off, her eyebrow arched particularly in Kensi's direction.

"Mr Monroe?" Sam questioned, looking to Callen who now shrugged his shoulders.

"Ms Blye's new partner," she replied before clearing her throat and stepping to the side to let them pass.

"_Temporary_ partner," Kensi corrected stubbornly with a tilt of her chin.

"Yes, of course," Hetty nodded, her face turning grim, "now," she began, clapping her hands, "don't let me keep you, after all, if we do not maintain justice, justice will not maintain us…"

The trio watched as she passed them, entering Ops without a backwards glance, varying levels of confusion spreading across their faces.

"Okay…" Callen murmured slowly before turning back to his partner and Kensi.

"Let's go pay Emily Zaras a visit."

* * *

The rapid tapping of fingers flying across computer keyboards could be heard throughout Ops as Eric Beale and Nell Jones searched for any other possible information on Nick Clarence that could be pertinent to his kidnapping.

"Anything?" Eric asked his companion for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes.

"Nothing," came the same reply he'd heard for the last twenty minutes.

"This is pointless," Eric sighed, pushing away from his computer and standing up, pacing back and forth across the room.

"Whoa there Beale, take it down a notch," Nell breathed, eyebrows shooting up her hairline.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, a hand running through his hair, "it's just—"

"Deeks," she finished, knowing well what he was feeling because she was too.

"Yeah," he agreed, heaving a sigh and sitting back down beside her. Nell turned her head to offer him a wry smile.

"I just…" he trailed off for a moment, unsure how to continue.

"You wish there was something we could do," his partner finished for him, a look of understanding in her amber gaze.

"You gotta stop doing that," he smirked.

"What?" she asked innocently, fooling no one.

"Reading my mind," he clarified unnecessarily.

"And stop freaking you out? Never," she smiled, turning back to her screen.

"The guys interview Clarence's little girl yet?" she asked, trying not to dwell too much on the horridness of that question.

Eric shook his head, pulling his chair into the desk; his glasses alight with the soft glow of the computer screen.

"Not yet, she's in the care of her aunt while her mom is in hospital and is being seen by a child psychologist before they can get near her…" he trailed off, noticing the crease between Nell's eyebrows that had formed somewhere in the last few seconds.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The intelligence analyst's eyes snapped to his, startled, as if he just asked her what year it was.

"I—it's nothing," she dismissed with a shake of her head, breaking eye-contact.

"Nell," he pressed, growing bold and resting his palm lightly on her arm.

Her gaze lingered on his hand for a moment before meeting his eyes once more.

"It's just—with everything that's happened over the last week…with Deeks and now with this little girl I—I don't know I just…don't think it's fair that innocent children have to go through the things Deeks and Lily have…" she trailed off, her cheeks burning a bright crimson as she realized how foolish she must have sounded.

"And now with Deeks…gone, it just sucks because—"

"The place won't be the same without him," Eric interjected.

"Yeah," she nodded, "and—"

"There's nothing we can do about it…" he finished softly.

"Now who's the mind-reader?" she asked with a small smile, patting his hand gently.

Eric stared down at their hands for a moment, a flush of warmth raising up his neck and heating his face. With a clearing of his throat he looked up and stared into his partner's honey-coloured eyes, a light-bulb suddenly switching on his brain.

"Hey, maybe there is something we could do…"

* * *

Sam Hanna let out a low whistle as they pulled up at a large, lavish house. It was quite impressive, marble pillars that glistened in the sunlight, fine rose bushes lining either side of a winding driveway that led to a tall, mahogany door complete with brass door knocker.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Kensi asked as she stepped up to his window, her parked car across the street from them.

"That's the address Eric and Nell gave us," Callen replied as he and his partner got out of their car and made their way up the long driveway.

"Doesn't look like the kinda place a hotel concierge could afford," Sam chimed in as they reached the extravagant door, reaching up and ringing the doorbell, forgoing the garish lion-head door-knocker.

"Hey guys," Kensi called from her position at one of the large bay windows, "looks like the place has been trashed…something definitely went down here."

Callen and Sam shared a look.

"Hey, you hear that?" the former asked with a tilt of his head.

"A cry for help? Sure, I hear that," the latter replied before whirling around and kicking in the door.

Guns at the ready, they each took a direction, Kensi heading left, Callen heading right and Sam straight ahead, trained eyes and ears sensitive to their surroundings.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

The three convened back at the door, nodding to each other, communicating silently as Kensi took the stairs, Sam went towards the back yard and Callen to the basement.

Kensi rounded the corner, dark eyes narrowed as she stepped through each room, found them empty and made her way onto the next. It was the last room on the left that stopped her dead in her tracks, her mouth letting out a small, inaudible gasp.

"Sam! Callen! Upstairs bathroom, you guys gotta see this!" Kensi yelled, her eyes transfixed on the bathroom, the bath tub in particular and the long, slender, bloodied arm that hung out over the side…

* * *

"Your vic appears to be Emily Zaras, preliminary COD is multiple stab wounds to the torso and neck," the medical examiner assured Sam and Callen a half-hour later as the crime scene investigators cordoned off the scene.

They nodded grimly as Kensi stepped away, down the stairs to survey the rest of the house a little closer. She reached the living room, her eyes inspecting every inch of the place. It appeared that the perps were searching for something; the entire place was in disarray, books, CDs, DVDs strewn all over the floor. Taking a careful step around all the objects at her feet, the agent made her way towards the TV, seeing a DVD poking out of the player. With a frown, she read the title that was scrawled haphazardly in sharpie "WATCH ME."

With a quick glance around her, she used one gloved finger to push the DVD into the player and watched intently as the TV came to life. Her eyes widened at what she saw:

There, standing as bold as brass in front of the camera, in a dimly lit room with dark walls, was a tall man dressed in all black, a balaclava over his face, speaking quietly but firmly to the camera:

"To the NSA, FBI, NCIS, whatever section of the alphabet soup managed to catch this case, hear me now: we have Master Sergeant Nick Clarence of the U.S Marines in our custody," he broke off, turning the camera slightly to focus on the blurry image of a badly bruised and beaten man tied to a chair before pointing the camera back on himself.

"But fret not you government yuppies, we'll return him safe and sound…_if_ he gives us what we want. If not?" the man paused dramatically, bringing his face ever closer to the screen, "well, we'll just have to get creative…"

The footage cut off then, the screen turning blue. Kensi's stomach fluttered uncomfortably as she dwelled on what she just saw. These guys meant business. Nick Clarence was in serious trouble.

Whipping out her phone, she dialled Ops quickly, not even giving Eric time to say hello before she was jumped in with: "Eric, dig into Clarence's open missions, everything he was involved in, as far as you can. And tell Hetty that she needs to get his superior on the phone, something tells me that these guys are looking for info on a very specific case…"

* * *

Soft rays of sunlight shone down onto the eyelids of one Marty Deeks as he slumbered comfortably in his bed. With a sigh, he rubbed his face with the back of his hand and turned over, his arm colliding with something soft. With a frown, the ex-liaison slowly opened his eyes and looked to his right, his heart hammering in his chest as the bare back of a very familiar person came into view.

"Hey," Andi Benson smiled a little shyly; turning from her stomach onto her side, clutching the sheet to her chest tightly, but the time for modesty was long gone.

Deeks' mouth opened and closed as he stared into the dark orbs of his childhood friend, his ex-love from over a decade ago. She did look beautiful, her dark hair sprawled across his pillow, her normally lightly-tanned skin flushed pink, her chocolate-eyes sparkling as she stared back at him. But something felt…off. The picture just didn't seem…right.

As he searched for appropriate words of response, his gut was doing the rumba, twisting and turning in knots until he felt a little sick.

What the hell? He should be elated! He had his lost-love back, his Andi, his first proper girlfriend, the girl that captured his heart when he was a teenager and always had a little piece of it all these years…then why did it feel so…wrong?

Hoping that the inward panic wasn't all over his face, Deeks plastered on a smile, murmuring a soft, "hey" before lapsing once again into silence.

Her frown spoke volumes, "are you okay, Marty?"

He cleared his throat loudly, pushing down the strange feeling in his gut, in his chest and leaned in, pecking her lightly on the lips.

"I'm great," he replied, sounding a lot better than he felt, "you?"

Maybe it was the timing. He had been worried, it was mere hours after Fay's burial, he wasn't super comfortable with this to begin with, had felt like he was taking advantage of Andi's vulnerable state but she had assured him many times that she wanted this, that it was all she thought about for a long time, had wanted it since she came back into his life, had missed him so much after all these years.

"I'm good," she smiled softly but Deeks saw right through it. She was still in pain and was a little thrown by his behaviour; he had to step it up. To reassure her. Surely this feeling, whatever it was, would pass.

"Hey, you wanna get outta here?"

* * *

Kensi and Sam pulled up outside the house of one Kim Marquez, sister of Jessica Clarence, their faces grim.

"How do you wanna play this?" the former asked gently, turning her head look him in the eye.

"Well, she's a little girl that loves her daddy and saw him get dragged away by big, scary men…we play this as gently as possible," he replied before stepping out of the car and making his way towards the house.

Kensi followed silently, the sense of unease rising in her. She was painfully aware that out of the two of them, it was Deeks who had a certain talent when it came to dealing with kids. Maybe it was because the man was just an overgrown child himself but she knew deep down it was because he was inherently a good man, a kind and gentle person, so easy to trust and so calming with a wit that—

She put a quick halt to her rapidly dwindling thoughts, shaking her head vigorously, trying to rid her mind of the invasion of thoughts that had anything remotely to do with the blond haired, blue-eyed wonder. His words from the night before still stung, even if she had convinced herself that they didn't and she couldn't get the look on his face out of her mind, his general look overall actually. The man looked like he'd spent the last year in front of the TV, his eyes glassy and red-rimmed, his clothes grubby, his hair even more fluffy than usual.

It did nothing to ease her anxiety, her worry for him, and after practically fleeing from his apartment with her tail between her legs, she had to admit she wasn't particularly looking forward to confronting him again. But that didn't mean she wouldn't.

"Mrs Marquez, I'm Agent Sam Hanna, this is Agent Kensi Blye, we're here to talk to Lily," Sam addressed the dark-haired woman who answered the door, effectively spitting Kensi from her reverie.

"Oh yes, of course, come in…Lily's in the living room," she stepped aside, motioning into the house.

The agents took in their surroundings silently, stopping when the back of a small, blonde head caught their attention. There, sitting quietly and colouring at the dining table was Lily Clarence, her olive eyes trained on her work.

"Lily, there are some nice people here to see you," her aunt said gently as she walked around the table and placed her hand on her shoulder softly, "they're going to ask you a few questions, okay?"

The little girl nodded, her eyes never leaving her picture.

With appreciative smiles to Mrs Marquez, both Kensi and Sam sat down at the table, Sam directly opposite Lily and Kensi to her right.

"Hi there Lily, my name is Kensi," the brunette began gently, lowering her head to try and catch her eye.

The girl remained silent.

"And I'm Sam…" her colleague chimed in, glancing from Lily to Kensi and back again.

"What're you drawing?" Kensi asked, careful not to raise her tone from its current decibel of make any sudden movements that could startle her, instead only cocking her head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the picture. It appeared to be of a small person and a larger person holding hands. What was odd however, was its lack of colour.

Wordlessly, Lily put down the grey crayon and wrapped both arms around her torso, as if giving herself a hug. Kensi and Sam watched on, both at a loss of what to do as she continued to remain silent, no matter what they said to try and engage her.

After fifteen minutes of no response, Mrs Marquez stepped in.

"I'm sorry Agents, maybe this wasn't such a good idea…" she trailed off, noticing the unshed tears in her niece's eyes.

"That's okay Mrs Marquez, we're very sorry for upsetting her," Kensi apologized, standing up slowly and shaking hands with the woman.

"I will inform you if the psychologist gets any information that could be important from her," she promised as they all walked to the door.

"That would be great, thanks," Kensi replied, her eyes catching something on the table beside the front door.

"Mrs Marquez? Are they pictures Lily drew in the last few days?" she asked, gesturing to the stack of papers to their right.

She could feel Sam's puzzled glance boring a hole in the side of her head as well as the woman's confused frown but ignored them steadily, waiting patiently for a reply.

"Yes, why?"

With that she nodded, a new wave of determination flowing into her veins.

"You mind if we take a look at them?"

* * *

"I feel like an idiot…" she murmured, burying her face behind a newspaper and pushing large sunglasses up her nose.

"At least you're wearing clothes," came the grumbling reply in her ear.

"You're not naked, Beale," she faux-groused, a blush rising to her cheeks.

"I might as well be Nell, it's October, it's frickin'—"

"He's here!" she interrupted him, sinking further down in her chair and tilting her head to the side, watching intently as a blond haired man walked up to the counter to order his coffee.

"What's he doing?" Eric asked suspiciously.

"The Macarena…what do you think he's doing?!" she hissed sarcastically, not at all impressed by her partner's 'master plan.'

"No need to be snippy Jones, I was just asking," came the voice in her ear, but she was too focused on watching the blond to respond.

"He's ordering two coffees," she murmured, more to herself than to Eric, a frown creasing her eyebrows, "I think he's got company," she finished, taking her eyes off him for a second and glancing around her to see if there was anyone else also focused on his movements.

"That puts a bit of a dent in our plan," the tech-analyst commented drily, as Nell rolled her eyes.

She was a trained agent dammit! Why did she feel so uncomfortable sitting in a café doing a little surveillance?

"How does he look?"

Nell cocked her head, peeking over the newspaper, her eyes squinting as they fought to adjust to the darkness of the sunglasses.

"Uh…he looks—"

"—Anything else can I get you, Miss?" Nell jumped, startled as a waitress interrupted her, staring down at her with a perplexed look on her face.

"Uh, no thank you," she replied, staring up at her for a moment before returning her gaze to the counter, only to find nothing but air. He was gone!

"Eric, he's gone!" she whispered frantically, glancing around the café to see if she could spot him, "I lost him, I don't know where he went I—"

"Hey there Nancy Drew…"

Nell stilled at the very familiar voice, her eyes slowly rising to meet a pair of very familiar eyes.

"Oh! Hey Deeks…didn't see you there," she grinned sheepishly, an embarrassed flush rising up neck.

"Probably because you're wearing sunglasses _inside_," Deeks replied, gesturing to her eyewear with one of the Styrofoam cups in his hand, tilting his head, seemingly waiting for some explanation.

"Is that Deeks? Nell? Nell! Talk to him, see if you can—"

"So, what are you doing here?" she cleared her throat, trying to drown out Eric's voice in her ear, quickly removing her sunglasses but keeping her gaze steadily to somewhere to the left of his head.

"Getting some coffee," he began, placing said coffee on the table before sitting down opposite her, "you?"

"Getting some coffee," she responded, willing for her aflame cheeks to cool, quickly.

"No need," he smiled, gesturing to the extra Styrofoam cup, "latte, two sugars with a pump of vanilla, right?"

The intelligence analyst gaped silently at him before she took up the cup and took a sip, finding that it was indeed her favourite beverage. The guy was good.

"So…you gonna keep Eric in your ear or is he gonna join us?" he asked with a smirk before reaching for his own coffee.

"I—uh, he's busy," she murmured, reaching up to remove her com before dropping it into her bag.

"Hetty send you?" he asked, a little accusatory, finding that it was about time that they got to the point.

She was taken aback at his tone. It wasn't angry, but not necessarily pleasant either.

"No, I came here on my own accord," she replied, sitting up straighter and folding her arms, resting her elbows on the table.

Deeks nodded, seemingly thinking over her response.

"You guys working a case?"

Nell bit her lip; preparing herself to say the words she dreaded the most:

"I can't talk about NCIS investigations with civilians, I'm sorr—"

"Ha, yeah, I keep forgetting that's what I am now," he let out a short laugh before shaking his head.

A silence engulfed them then, Deeks taking another sip of his coffee. The red-head scratched at the cup heating her hands for a moment, summoning the courage to ask the question she came here to ask. Slowly, her honey eyes rose to stare her friend straight in the face as she asked:

"Are you coming back, Deeks?"

The ex-liaison looked up, unsurprised at the query. He shrugged, not sure how to answer her. She waited on tether hooks for a few moments before realizing that was the only response she was going to get to that question.

An uncomfortable sensation rose in Nell's chest, a feeling that had been lurking in the depths of her stomach ever since Deeks' breakdown in Ops.

"Deeks I—I'm so sorry for what happened…in Ops...I really didn't mean any harm looking into those files—"

"Nell—"

"I thought I could find something that could help you, find something that could exonerate your father—"

"Nell—"

"So we could get a lock on the real killer. If I'd known how much—"

"Nell!" Deeks halted her with a palm to her arm, leaning closer to look her dead in the eye.

"Yes?" she asked, stubbornly not breaking eye-contact.

"It's okay…really, I know you were just trying to help me and I appreciate it. Don't beat yourself up," he patted her arm gently, his words sincere.

"You gotta come back Deeks, the team won't be the same without you, isn't the same without you," she murmured, her words just as sincere.

She watched intently as her friend flashed her a small smile before he rose from his seat and smiled down at her, throwing her a wink before clasping his hands behind his back.

"Take care of yourself Nell Jones," he grinned, "tell Eric I said hi," he finished before turning on his heel and walking away without a backwards glance.

The intelligence-analyst sat glued to her seat as she watched his retreating back. When he had vanished from few, she took a breath and sighed to herself.

"You're up, Eric."

* * *

"It wouldn't be the first time a Marine was kidnapped for information on a mission," Sam reminded his colleague as they pulled up outside OSP, a case from last year fresh in his mind, one where young marines were promised new jobs with good pay but were instead shipped to Dubai and tortured for information.

"Yeah but why this Marine? What's so special about Nick Clarence?" Kensi pondered aloud as they walked into the building, towards the bull-pen.

"Maybe it's not Clarence that's special, maybe it's a mission…" he hypothesized, taking a seat as his desk as Callen arrived.

"Hey G, you talk to Hetty?" he asked his partner as he saw Kensi spread out Lily's drawings all over her desk out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, she's getting us a sit down with Clarence's superior…what are they Kensi?" he turned to the brunette who was engrossed with the pictures, her dark eyes scanning each page with a hawk-like precision.

"Lily Clarence's drawings…" she mumbled absent-mindedly, as Callen stepped closer to look over her shoulder.

"And why do you have them?" he asked, staring down at the black and grey lines with mild interest.

"I was told that sometimes when a child suffers a trauma they tend to work out their issues and emotions through creativity, like drawing," she replied, her gaze still focused on the art-work.

"That sounds like a Nate-ism," Sam smirked, throwing a curious eye on the pictures too.

"Actually it was Deeks," she corrected steadily, frowning as her eye caught on a specific symbol that she'd seen in the last few pictures.

"Mr Deeks is a smart man," the voice of Henrietta Lange sounded from behind them.

Slowly, the three agents turned on the spot, surprised to see their boss accompanied by a tall, dark-haired man of Hispanic origin, his closed-mouth smile a little strained.

"Ms Blye, Mr Hanna, Mr Callen, this is Mr Zackary Monroe, a Junior Agent who will be working with you for the foreseeable future," Hetty gestured between them, her gaze focused primarily on Kensi as she straightened up from her desk hesitantly.

"I've heard great things, I look forward to working with you," he said politely, shaking Sam and Callen's hands, extending his hand finally to Kensi who stared at it silently, before nodding to herself and clasping it for a moment, clearing her throat and looking back to the drawings.

"Welcome to OSP Mr Monroe, your team will fill you in on the case," Hetty murmured, before taking her leave, stepping away without a backwards glance.

An awkward silence befell the bull-pen. Callen and Kensi kept their eyes trained on the desk whilst Sam let out a long breath of air.

"I'm gonna check if Nell and Eric could get anything off the tape Kensi found in Emily Zaras' house," he murmured almost to himself, his brow furrowing as he watched Monroe cross over to his desk, preparing to drop a large, cardboard box down in Deeks' chair.

"You can't sit there," Kensi said suddenly before an inch of the box could touch the chair, her voice stern, her eyes flashing with something bright and if Sam knew her (and he did) dangerous.

"Uh…okay…where should I sit?" Monroe asked her confusedly, now noticing the little trinkets that still littered the desk.

"I don't care where you sit, but it won't be there," she replied, a steel edge to her tone before turning on her heel and walking away.

Sam shrugged grimly at Monroe, catching Callen's eye before stepping towards the stairs. As he ascended them, he heard his partner turn to Monroe and say quietly:

"Guess I better get you filled in."

With a shake of his head, Sam made his way to Ops, halting abruptly as he heard hushed tones wafting from inside.

"But what did he—"

"He washed me out Nell!"

"When you say he washed you out…"

"He steered me into a ginormous wave!"

"Ginormous isn't a word, Beale."

"Regardless, it was huge!"

"Well, maybe it was an accident—"

"Which is why I'm not going down there to kick his ass."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure _that's_ why you're not gonna kick Deeks' ass," the sarcasm dripped from the intelligence-analyst's voice causing a smirk to spread across Sam's face.

"So, looks like Operation 'Get Deeks Back' was a failure," Eric lamented, a sigh audible to even Sam as he stood out in the corridor.

"Yeah, looks like it," Nell agreed.

Sam straightened, his shoulders back, his head raised high.

Operation 'Get Deeks Back,' huh?

Challenge accepted.

* * *

Kensi raised her hand to knock again, a new determination in her veins, a determination that felt like fire and ice simultaneously, the image of the new guy trying to move into Deeks' space fuelling her feverishly.

"Deeks! If you're in there, open up! We gotta talk! Seriously, we can't ignore this any longer, I'm not taking no for an—"

"Hello?" the door swung open suddenly, leaving the agent's hand suspended in the air, her mouth gaping as her eyes landed on Angela Deeks.

"Uh…hi, I'm sorry, I was just wondering if Deeks was home I—"

"Oh come in sweetheart, I'm sure he'll be back soon," she smiled politely, stepping back to allow Kensi entrance to the apartment.

"Oh no that's fine Mrs—"

"I insist, come on in. Would you like some coffee?"

* * *

A right, gloved hand swung at the punch bag, connecting roughly with it, a satisfying thump reverberating throughout the near-empty gym. A droplet of sweat clung to the bridge of Marty Deeks' nose as he swung with his left hand, then his right, then left again, over and over until his heart hammered in his chest and he was gasping for air. With one final punch, he backed off, tilting his head to the ceiling, staring up at the florescent lights, waiting for his pulse to slow.

"You kicked that bag's ass Deeks; wanna try your skills on a real person? If I remember correctly, I owe you a rematch," a very familiar voice came from behind him.

With a chuckle, the blond turned on the spot and met Sam Hanna's eye.

"What is it? 'Let's ambush Deeks' day? First Nell in the coffee shop, then Eric at my surfing spot, now you? What's next? Hetty jumping out of a locker?"

"Wouldn't surprise me, she's the perfect size to fit in one of those things," Sam smirked, quirking an eyebrow as he donned some gloves.

The two shared a laugh; both knowing that there was no way that either of them would ever be so brave to say something like that anywhere near OSP.

"So, come on big-shot," Sam continued, walking towards the ring with a determined gleam in his eye, "show me what ya got…"

* * *

Kensi laughed heartily as Angela finished a particularly amusing story of Deeks' junior year of high school where he thought it'd be a good idea to wear his Spiderman boxers to gym class only to have his two-sizes-too-big sweat pants to end up around his ankles after a round of enthusiastic tennis playing.

"How did you find out about it?" she asked, before taking a sip of her coffee.

"Oh a mother has her ways…" she trailed off with a wink, "and I may have bribed Ray with some Macaroni 'n' Cheese," she finished with a chuckle before a pensive, albeit sad look crossed her face.

"God I miss that boy," she sighed as Kensi's heart lurched in her chest.

She almost forgot that to the outside world Ray Martindale was dead, that included his best friend's mom. She hated the forlorn expression that had befallen Angela, so fought to seek something, anything to change the subject. Glancing around the room, her eye caught on a familiar trinket that she'd always meant to ask Deeks about, all the times he and she had spent time in his apartment.

"Was that a good vacation?" she asked, gesturing to the photo of a teenaged Marty Deeks and his mom, identical smiles on their faces as they stood in front of Niagara Falls, absolutely dripping wet from head to toe.

Angela whirled around in her chair, her eyes falling onto the picture, laughing loudly.

"Oh yeah, it was. We were splashed by so much water that we had to wring out our clothes in the restrooms," she chuckled before turning back to Kensi, noticing the quiet, enigmatical expression on her face.

"My son does love photographs," she continued, staring at the agent a little closer, watching as a small smile formed on her lips at those words.

"Oh you don't have to tell me. He ever show you the one with the camel from his vacation last year?"

"Sure he did. Like a hundred times, through mail, email, in person…that was one excited camel," Angela laughed heartily as Kensi snorted.

"Yeah, to this day he still insists it was only his foot," she shook her head in amusement as a comfortable silence befell the two of them.

"You love my son, don't you?" Angela said suddenly, fixing the brunette with a knowing stare, her statement hanging in the air as Kensi gaped at her.

"I—what?" she stammered, sitting forward in her chair. Her expression one of a deer caught in headlights.

The elder woman sat forward too, her raised eyebrows almost a dare to argue with her.

"You heard me, Kensi."

"I…" the agent trailed off, her eyes darting, unable to focus on the cerulean eyes that reminded her so much of her partner.

_What the hell was she supposed to say to that?!_

"It's alright, you don't have to say anything if you're not ready…but hear this. I have never, not ever, heard my son talk about anyone as much or as warmly as he's talked about you. Nothing too specific, don't worry; I know you both have such a secretive job, but just little facts here and there over the years. Little sentences that I recall hours after talking to him because of the transformation in his voice every time he mentions your name.

"Now, I can't speak for him and I won't, I may be meddling but I'm not completely intrusive, but I know that he cares for you deeply and I just want you to know that I can't thank you enough for how you've helped him these last few days, with the Benson case and everything before then, the years before then when you've been his partner. You help keep my baby safe and that's all a mother could ever hope for," she paused, leaning even closer and capturing Kensi's hand in hers.

The younger brunette glanced down at their hands, transfixed, the elder woman's words washing over her, the shock rising in her.

"So even if you're not ready yet, or never are, to admit what I see in you as clear as day now and the first time we met, please just know that I appreciate all you are for Marty, his partner and friend…and I hope that one day he will come back to you, to his job, to help keep you safe too," she finished, standing up and taking her coffee cup, walking into the kitchen to pour her a refill.

Kensi sat there in silence, stunned. No one (bar her mother) had ever directly confronted her like that about her feelings for her partner, she found now that it happened, it was…jarring. Terrifying. But no longer as inwardly taboo.

After a moment of watching Angela pour the coffee into their cups, she nodded, murmuring softly to herself, for her ears only:

"He's Marty Deeks…he's kinda hard not to love."

* * *

"Come on Deeks, that all ya got?" Sam smirked as he dodged the ex-liaison's punch for the third time.

"You know it isn't, just ask Callen," he replied roughly, the uncomfortable memory assaulting his senses.

Sam stilled for a moment, that comment catching him off-guard, giving the blond just enough time to strike his left cheek.

"See?" he smirked as Sam rubbed his now throbbing cheek.

"Lucky-shot…temp," he groused, "although I guess now, you're not the temp anymore…seen as you've left us."

Deeks halted, staring at his colleague with narrowed eyes.

"Kensi told me you got a new guy," he growled, lashing out with his right fist, trying to back the SEAL into a corner.

"Yeah, Monroe, a temp for the temp," he shrugged, "or Kensi's new partner…guess it depends on what way you look at it…on if you're coming back…" he trailed off, blocking Deeks' advances and trying his own, only to have the blond block them too.

"For someone who works undercover, you're not very subtle," he commented with a quirk of his eyebrow, striking his shoulder before backing off a little.

"It's been my experience Deeks, that when dealing with idiots, subtle ain't the best approach," he responded as he hit the side of his helmet.

"Oh so now I'm an idiot?" the ex-detective asked with a scoff.

"You were always an idiot. Just not a stupid one. Now though? Yeah, you're being stupid man, can't you see that—"

Sam was cut off abruptly by a swift punch to the gut, not Deeks' full strength (he could tell) but enough to halt his speech nonetheless.

"Well, well, well, and I always thought my baby was a gentle soul," a voice rang out in the gym.

Deeks immediately tensed.

"Who's the cougar?" Sam smirked once he caught his breath, straightening up and flashing the attractive, older brunette one of his dazzling smiles.

"That would be my mother."

The agent didn't have time to react to that before the brunette was halting aside the ring, watching intently as her son stepped down to stand opposite her.

"What're you doing here, mom?"

But Angela wasn't paying any attention to Deeks, instead her focus was on Sam, who was now joining them, an ever-present grin on his face.

"Nice to meet you ma'am, I'm Sam, a colleague and friend of your son's," he held out his hand for her to shake.

"I'm Angela, Marty's...incredibly young mother," she flashed Sam a grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat.

Deeks rolled his eyes, fighting the queasy sensation in his stomach.

"And what age are you today, mom?" he asked in a pseudo-sweet tone, deliberately avoiding his ex-colleague's gaze.

"Thirty-three," she beamed without missing a beat as Sam barely smothered a chuckle with his hand.

"Huh," Deeks' eyebrows furrowed, a thoughtful tap to his chin, "that's funny...I didn't realize you could give birth at -1."

Angela merely waved off his comments with a dismissive hand.

"Anyway, sorry to break up the fun boys, but I thought you ought to know Marty, seeing as you refuse to answer your cell-phone, that your partner stopped by the apartment earlier. She really wanted to speak with you. I kept her there as long as I—where are you going?!" Angela broke off as her son suddenly started shoving things in his bag, already racing across the gym.

"Sorry mom, gotta go, I really gotta talk to Kens—bye Sam, good fight, oh and by the way," he turned quickly, flashing his friend a cheeky grin, "I totally won."

* * *

Deeks never took the expression 'faster than the speed of light' seriously as a legitimate way to describe someone's speed before, until now. With a haste he didn't believe possible, he had raced home (his track coach would be proud) and hopped in the shower (he didn't think Kensi would appreciate his heart-felt apology if he smelled like sweaty gym socks), bolting out his door with half-dry hair all within twenty minutes, only to halt abruptly as a petite, brown-haired, bespectacled woman stood on his doorstep.

"Hetty," he gaped.

"Mr Deeks," she nodded, staring at him expectantly.

"Uh…do you want to come in?" he asked uncertainly, stepping aside, realizing too late how much of disarray his apartment was in.

"Thank you," she nodded, her beady-eyes surveying the place, before fixing him with a bemused expression.

"Uh, tea, coff—"

"In all the years we've known each other Mr Deeks, have you ever seen me consume coffee?" she asked, the question no doubt rhetorical.

"Tea it is…" he trailed off, turning towards the kitchen.

"Let's forgo the tea Mr Deeks, after all, we've much more important matters to tend to," she responded mysteriously, urging the ex-detective to turn and look at her.

In her hands, there lay a manila folder and suddenly it all became clear.

Important matters to attend to indeed.

* * *

Kensi Blye's cell-phone vibrated across her coffee table as she finished her extensive number of push-ups. Wiping her brow with her hand, she answered the unknown number with a level of caution:

"Blye."

"Oh Kensi! Good, I got the number right, it's Angela, Angela Deeks," her partner's mom's voice omitted from the other end of the line.

"Uh Angela, hi," she answered, clueless as to how the woman managed to get her private cell number, "anything I can do for you?"

She asked this with a sickening in her stomach, an irrational fear creeping up her spine. Ever since their conversation from a little over an hour ago, she had been unable to get the elder woman's words out of her head. Now that she was suddenly talking to her again, she couldn't help but be afraid that another bout of insightful wisdom was going to tumble out of the woman's lips, shocking her to her core, making her ponder some of her deepest, darkest desires and question her carefully laid infrastructure.

"Well, it's more what I could do for you. I just wanted to let you know, Marty is home…if you still want to talk to him, that is."

* * *

"You can't be serious," he threw up his hands, bolting up out of his chair and staring down his former boss with disbelief.

"As a heart attack – I believe is the common response," she replied, clasping her hands in front of her.

"Hetty—I left the LAPD four days ago! And you're seriously coming to me now with those papers—"

"To offer you the position as NCIS Agent, yes," she nodded, "I understand that this has been a difficult time for you Mr Deeks, but I cannot afford to lose you from our team and I'm sure your colleagues would agree…"

Deeks dragged a hand down his face, pacing back and forth in front of her for a moment before turning to her, his voice adopting a softer tone as he tried to properly explain his conflicting feelings:

"I slept, ate and breathed the life of a cop all these years Hetty and—I don't know if I can just become an agent with a click of a finger or a signature at the bottom of a page or walking across hot coals or sacrificing a virgin, whatever you guys do…it's just…I need time. Can you give me that?"

A short silence followed his words. After a few moments, Hetty nodded before standing up and making her way towards his door.

"As you wish, Mr Deeks…" she opened the door, halting slightly, before continuing hesitantly, "I spoke to Bates…told him I was going to offer you the place as an agent. Told him that I had before. Said it was a courtesy, that after everything I didn't want to poach his best detective completely without warning or have any bad blood between our departments and you know what he said?"

"What?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"That if anyone could make the transition between cop to NCIS agent it is you. You're the most adaptable, capable, determined young man he ever met and he was sad to see you go. I have to say the sentiment is mine, also…" she trailed off, catching his eye.

"He actually said that he was sad to see me go?"

"Well, no, his exact words were, and I quote: 'I'm pissed he quit' but I believe the sentiment still remains…" she finished before walking out the door and closing it softly behind her.

Marty Deeks stood there, alone in his apartment, staring at the space where Henrietta Lange used to be.

Today was just getting weirder and weirder…

A soft knock spat him out of his reverie. With a frown, he wondered if even Hetty was as polite as to knock again after just vacating the room and attentively made his way to the door, preparing himself for whatever else she had to throw at him. Gently, he turned the handle and was instead met with another brunette altogether.

"Andi? What's—"

She cut him off with a chaste kiss, throwing her arms around his shoulders, pushing him into the apartment and kicking the door behind her.

Well, okay then.

* * *

Kensi Blye pulled up at the familiar apartment building for what felt like the millionth time that day. With a sigh, she climbed out of her car and tried to mentally prepare herself for the conversation she was going to have with Deeks.

After her half-hour with Angela, she felt a shift within her, a voice that she could no longer ignore and knew that talking with him was going to be much harder than she originally thought. But she'd persevere, she needed her partner…and there was no way that partner was Zackary Monroe.

As she stepped into the elevator, she suddenly heard her name being called.

"Kensi! Kensi hold the door!"

She smiled softly, a blush rising in her cheeks as she once again found herself in a small space with Angela Deeks.

"Don't worry," she grinned, "I just came home to grab my purse, I'm meeting Jimmy for dinner so you and Marty will have the place to yourselves…"

Kensi wasn't sure if she liked the sound of the way she said that.

As they reached the third floor, they both stepped out, Angela chatting animatedly, telling the agent all about her upcoming dinner-date with the ex-sergeant.

"And he's such a gentleman, always was…" she trailed off, routing around in her pocket to retrieve her keys as they halted at 21B.

With a deep breath, Kensi prepared herself for coming face to face with her partner, stepping close to Angela as she opened the door.

"Marty, look who I found out in the—oh!"

Deeks and Andi broke apart, their widened eyes darting to the door, scrambling to cover their half-naked bodies as they lay sprawled on the couch.

Kensi and Angela gaped at the two of them, stunned.

"Uh…" the latter murmured, glancing to the agent, frowning as she saw the flash of pain in the younger woman's eyes.

"I—I should go…" she whispered, unable to look at anyone, backing out into the corridor.

"Wait, Kens!" Deeks stumbled to get up, tripping as he hastily pulled on his pants, his face burning with embarrassment and something else entirely as he sped after her, still shirtless, right out into the corridor and towards the elevators.

But he was too late.

She was already gone…

**A/N: So, it's my birthday (October 9****th****) and I decided to update when I had a little spare time before I sank into despair about being another year older lol XD I kid, I kid. But I hope you guys enjoyed it :D**

**Please Review!**

**Love, ~Cortexikid x**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"**Look at me Marty, and tell me you're not in love with Kensi Blye."**

"**I can't."**


	29. Legerdemain Part III

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 29: Legerdemain (Part III)**

**A/N: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH! Your birthday wishes and reviews really made my week. You're all awesome! So, without further ado, part III of the aftermath :D**

**WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM 4x03**

**Disclaimer: All the blowing-out of birthday cake candles in the world still wouldn't make NCIS: LA mine :(**

* * *

**WOTD: LEGERDEMAIN; leg·er·de·main noun. Deception, trickery.**

"You're an idiot…"

"I know."

"A fool..."

"I know."

"A stupid—"

"Mom, I know!" he murmured into his hands, his voice muffled as he dragged his palms down his face.

Angela Deeks stared down at her son as he hung his head lowly, his eyes covered, his shoulders hunched. With a sigh, she sat opposite him, resting her palm gently on his knee.

"Marty, look at me," she spoke softly, frowning as she felt him heave a large sigh.

Slowly, his tousled blond head lifted and she was met by a gaze identical to her own, his normally mirth-filled orbs now tinged with a sadness, a pain, a shame…

"Is Andi long gone?" she asked quietly, glancing to her left where she saw the younger woman's jacket hanging on the back of the couch.

"About an hour…she said she'd call me when—" he broke off, clearing his throat, "when everything died down. Hell," he half-laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, "she wasn't even mad, didn't even question what was going on, she just told me to apologize to you and Kensi on behalf of the both of us and left…"

Angela nodded, biting her lip as she pondered how to try and fix this. But upon reflection, she realized that there wasn't anything she could do; her son was the only one to possibly mend any of these bridges. First thing first though, was to make him admit what exactly was wrong…

"So, Kensi got outta here faster than I could say 'indecent exposure', poor girl got the shock of her life," she breathed, trying to subdue a grimace as she recalled the hurt expression on the agent's face as she saw Deeks and Andi half-naked on his couch.

A fresh wave of pain flashed over her son's face at her words. He shifted uncomfortably on the chair, his eyes breaking contact with hers and instead focussing on the cell phone in his hand. Her interest peaked, Angela sat forward, glancing down at the phone, simultaneously surprised and not-so-surprised at what she saw on the screen.

It was a picture of a moment frozen in time as a beautiful brunette threw back her head in laughter, her eyes shining brightly, completely unaware of the camera, as she sat in the driver's seat of a car, sunlight bouncing off her long brunette tresses.

"Kensi…"Angela stated rather than questioned, watching intently as her son's shoulders stiffened, trying and failing to school his features into something more neutral, but it was too late, his soft eyes and small smile gave him away.

"She'd kill me if she knew I took it, she hasn't shared my love for photography," he murmured, still not taking his eyes off his phone.

"I really messed up mom," he continued, his tone of dejection causing a stir within Angela as she leaned forward and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"You're only human Marty, and people make mistakes...what really matters is what you do to make up for them," she said, her words suggesting an air of experience as her son took one last look at his phone before putting it back in his pocket.

"You're right," he replied cryptically before standing up from the chair and stifling a yawn.

"Good night mom," he murmured, his eyes still downcast before trudging to his bedroom without a backwards glance.

He could feel Angela's eyes follow him as he left the room, but just carried on, closing his bedroom door softly behind him.

There, he stood for a moment, resting the back of his head against the door, eyes firmly shut, trying to will away the nagging thoughts from his brain. He could feel the sensation rising in him, the discomfort, the guilt, the shame and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't will it away.

With a sigh, he thumped his head a few times before stepping towards his bed and plonking down, shedding his clothes. As he took off his pants, he felt a weight in the pocket. Pushing his hand in, he retrieved his cell phone, heaving what felt like the hundredth sigh before depositing it on his bedside table and lying back on his bed, eyes staring straight at the ceiling.

Tonight, sleep would not meet him.

* * *

Dark orbs stared into space as the green haze changed from 6:59 to 7:00.

"Good morning Los Angeles!" an obnoxiously loud and cheery tone omitted from the alarm-clock on the nightstand of one Agent Kensi Blye.

With a quiet groan she shoved the pillow over her ears, her eyes still transfixed on the clock, feeling as if each passing minute was an hour. It had been a long night, unbearable so, of which she didn't manage a moment of sleep.

Every time she closed her eyes all she could see was Deeks...Deeks and Andi on the couch and Angela's pitiful glance as she made her hasty retreat. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't dispel her whirlwind of emotions, they ranging from anger to frustration to...an ache in her chest that felt awfully like despair.

With a shake of her head, she once again tried to ignore the sense of discomfort invading her senses, tossing and turning back and forth, unable to get comfortable. Logically she knew she should just get up, that all semblance of sleep was lost, she had to get to work but her overtired and overworked body seemed to have other ideas. Her brain was running overtime and her heart too, she needed her rest, she needed to forget, she needed—

The loud shrill of her cell-phone disrupted the even louder noise of her radio and with a heavy heart she leaned over and snatched up the phone, answering the call without looking at the caller ID.

"Blye," Kensi murmured into the phone, not having the energy to hide her sleep-deprived voice.

"Hi sweetheart!" a very familiar voice sounded.

"Mom!" Kensi bolted upright in her bed, clearing her throat and injecting whatever amount of faux-happiness and could manage into her tone. "Hi, what's up?"

"What's wrong?" Julia asked almost immediately, concern lacing her voice.

"Nothing's wrong-"

"Kensi Marie Blye, don't lie to me. You sound like hell, now please tell me what's the matter," Julia pleaded, in her best firm but fair voice.

Kensi's shoulders sagged in defeat. Well, so much for that plan. Time for another.

"Nothing a John Hughes marathon and Oreos with my mom couldn't fix..." she murmured, tasting the lie on her lips.

"Sounds good, honey. You know what they say, you really can't appreciate Pretty In Pink until the 99th viewing," her mom replied, the teasing smile evident in her tone.

Kensi knew that she was worried about her, that despite her training she found it hard to hide her emotions from her mom and that more than likely Julia would only be in her house for two minutes before she managed to gauge what was bothering her. But she didn't care. She was at a loss of what to do and spending time with her mom always made her feel better before. She had to believe it would this time.

"Actually mom, I was thinking we could watch 'Some Kind of Wonderful.'"

It was just as she was pulling on her jacket twenty minutes later did she hear her phone beep again, this time a message showing up on the screen from Sam.

**Needed in Ops ASAP. Eric and Nell got something off the tape.**

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, her eyes automatically returning to the paper that she had pinned to her wall. One of Lily's drawings. It had hit her in the middle of the night, during her period of Deeks-induced insomnia, that there was a definite pattern to the little girl's pictures. One symbol stood out in the mass of black and grey that she found after she stared at it until each line was committed to memory. Until it was the only image in her head, all other unwelcome images temporarily at bay.

It looked a lot like The Marine Corps insignia...on the arm of one of the men that stood to the left and clung tightly to the illustrated Nick Clarence...

One of the kidnappers could be a marine.

* * *

Soft light peered through the cracks of the boarded windows, illuminating the dim, dank room. Nick Clarence looked up, hoping to get some sunlight on his face, anywhere, so he wouldn't have to sit chained to a pipe in pitch darkness any longer. But the windows were too high and he was shaded by the various heavy machinery that surrounded him.

He'd lost track of time since the last time he'd passed out from another round of beatings but if he had to guess, he'd say he'd been there for about three days, each moment feeling like an eternity. As of yet, he hadn't broken, hadn't given the bastards what they wanted and still had the fire in his veins, the determination in his soul to stay loyal to his country, to not commit treason, to not sell out a fellow Marine, no matter how hard they beat him, tortured him.

Like clock-work, the familiar sound of footsteps came towards him, followed by the clanking of a plate being pushed towards him. It was breakfast time.

The guard was different this time however, taller and more muscular than the usual guy and he couldn't help but ponder the change. He had been steadily planning his escape for several hours now but knew he'd have to wait until darkness before he could put it into action. So, he readily let the taller guy to approach him, to rather gently untie one of his hands so he could eat. It was when he leaned forward to pick up the plate, did the soft breath of air at the back of his neck still his actions.

"Don't worry man...you're going to be fine," a very familiar voice murmured to him, before straightening up and walking away.

Clarence gaped, stunned into silence for a moment before finding his voice and croaking after him:

"Scott?"

* * *

There were soft murmurs throughout OSP as the early morning flow of activity began. Sam Hanna settled himself in his specialized chair, a new chair he insisted he get a year ago when his old one was unceremoniously replaced as his partner, G Callen, fixed himself a cup of coffee.

Both were focused on doing their own thing, waiting a little impatiently for their colleague, Kensi Blye to arrive when suddenly something caught their attention.

The entrance of Zackary Monroe do not go unnoticed by more than just the partners, but he seemed determined to blend in, keeping his head down as he made his way towards Hetty's office.

"You ready to break in the new guy?" Sam asked his partner as he sat down at his desk, coffee in hand.

"I suppose so...and when I was just getting used to Deeks..." he murmured, the humor falling flat.

"You think he'll come back?" he posed his own question, watching intently as Sam's expression turned to one of contemplation.

"Well, I think there's really only one person that could convince him and that sure ain't me, Nell or Eric," he mused, putting down his newspaper and folding his arms.

Callen frowned confusedly at him.

"What do you mean?"

Sam sighed and stood up, walking around his desk to lean against it, speaking quietly.

"Eric kinda had this harebrained scheme to try and get Deeks to come back, had a codename and everything," he smirked with a shake of his head.

"Which was?"

"'Operation: Get Deeks Back.'"

"Subtle," Callen chuckled.

"Anyway," Sam continued, his eyes trained on Monroe's back, "I sorta followed Deeks to one of his gyms, tried to talk to him, see if I could convince him to think about coming back—"

"You get far?" his partner interrupted, his interest clearly peaked.

"I was getting somewhere...until his mom showed up."

"His mom," Callen stated rather than questioned.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, a small smirk on his face, "quite the lady. I know now where Deeks gets all his...'Deeks-ness' from," he laughed quietly as he recalled the sassy older woman.

"He left before I could make any real head-way and if I heard right, all the wonder-twins up there got was a free coffee and a Surfing For Dummies lesson from him so it's kinda a bust," he finished, straightening up as he saw Kensi make her way into the bull-pen.

Callen nodded, knowing that the conversation was over for now, but he certainly had a lot to think about.

He may not be a certain brunette agent but perhaps it was time he got in on 'Operation: Get Deeks Back.'

"Hey," Kensi nodded, halting at her desk, looking a little pale and a drained, "you said Eric and Nell found something on the tape?"

"A glitch," Eric Beale confirmed not five minutes later as they stood in Ops, staring up at the footage of the masked man Kensi found in Emily Zaras' home.

"What kinda glitch?" Sam asked, looking from Eric to Nell and back again.

"You can see it here," Nell tapped on her tablet, replaying the footage.

The three agents stared at it intently, before all turning to stare blankly at the intelligence-analyst.

"Yeah, I didn't see it at first either," Eric confirmed their confusion, looking to his partner, "but Nell here has the eyes of a hawk...look again..." he trailed off as Nell replayed it, this time slowed down.

Slowly, the frames of the clip went by and after a few moments there was indeed a jump in the footage. With haste and split-second accuracy, Nell paused it precisely on time, just as a stream of white lettering flashed up on the screen:

**#09109047**

"Zero, nine, one, zero, nine, zero, four, seven...what does it mean?" Kensi asked, her eyes not leaving the screen.

"Well," Nell replied, "that's what Eric and I have been trying to figure out. We ran all types of serial numbers, social security numbers...all coming up empty so—"

"Have you ran Marine file numbers?" Kensi interrupted suddenly, reaching around to pull a piece of paper from her bag.

"Uh—"

"Cause I've been thinking," she continued as if she'd not heard her, instead turning around to the table and laying out the pieces of paper and pointing at the symbol that cropped up on each page, "tell me, what does that look like to you guys?"

"It looks kinda like the Marine Corps insignia," a voice sounded from the doorway as Zackary Monroe crossed the threshold, stepping closer to the table, his eyes not leaving the paper.

Kensi tensed, not looking at him, instead addressing the others, "that's what I thought. And here, you can see it's on the arm of one of the assailants, which got me thinking—"

"That one of the kidnappers is a marine," Monroe finished, stepping around the table to stand beside her.

"That is quite the theory, Mr Monroe," Henrietta Lange commented as she entered the room, hands clasped behind her back, "Ms Jones, Mr Beale, it would certainly be fruitful to run the numbers against the personnel files of active and inactive marines, I've cleared it with Clarence's superior..."

Nell nodded at Hetty, making a mental note and deliberately trying to ignore the rising tension within the room since the new agent's arrival.

"Oh forgive me," Hetty said suddenly, looking from Monroe to the intelligence analyst, "Nell Jones, Eric Beale, meet Agent Zackary Monroe, he will be working with you all for the foreseeable future…"

Eric's eyebrows shot up in surprise as Nell let out a short breath, her gaze automatically landing on Kensi. It was clear that the position he would be filling was Deeks' and she could only imagine how Kensi was taking that. By the stern look on her face, it wasn't well.

"Good work, Ms Blye," Hetty said motioning to the pictures before turning on her heel to leave.

"Deeks gave me the idea," she replied pointedly, not looking at her boss, instead folding her arms and staring straight ahead, ignoring the shift of movement from her left, where Monroe stood.

"As I said before, Mr Deeks is a smart man, he got us a potential lead," was the petite brunette's response before she disappeared out of sight.

After a beat of incredibly awkward silence, Callen found the need to break it.

"Okay well, me and Sam have got a meeting with Clarence's superior, Kensi, why don't you and Monroe go talk to Emily Zaras' brother, see if you can get any information from him on whether or not his sister was involved with these people or just collateral damage," he said, all business as he and Sam prepared to leave.

If looks could kill, he would have died a thousand slow deaths if Kensi's glare was anything to go by.

"We'll let you know if we come up with anything for the numbers," Eric assured them as Kensi and Callen stared each other down.

After a moment, Kensi's shoulders sagged in defeat, her eyes averting from his, migrating to the floor.

"I'm driving," she said curtly, still not looking at Monroe before storming out of Ops.

Monroe exchanged glances with the remaining occupants before clearing his throat and murmuring, "this should be a good first day," before following his new partner out.

Callen and Sam waited a beat before the latter spoke, "I give him three days."

"Nah, more like two," Callen replied.

"Care to make it interesting?" Sam asked, folding his arms.

"Alright," his partner nodded, "if I'm right you gotta take me to the game on Tuesday night and don't even try and say you don't have tickets because I saw them in your wallet—"

"And if I win?" the other agent interjected with a tilt of his head.

"I'll let you take me furniture shopping," he smirked.

"That doesn't really sound like a good thing, G..."

* * *

Stone cold silence was all that could be heard in the car on the way to visit Ben Zaras. Every couple of seconds, Kensi could see from her peripheral vision that Monroe kept shooting her glances, nervous ones if the constant wiping of his palms on his pants were any indication. She knew she was being deliberately difficult, but she just couldn't find it in herself to accept why he was here. Even if she was inwardly conflicted where her ex-partner was concerned (she grit her teeth as the unrelenting unsavoury image attacked her senses again) that didn't mean that she wanted him replaced, that she was just going to move on and forget all about—

"I'm sorry," Monroe said suddenly as they stopped at a red light.

Kensi frowned, those two words being enough to finally get her to look at him, even if only for a moment.

"For what?" she asked, they being the first words she ever truly spoke to him directly.

He took a sharp breath, trying to keep eye-contact with her but she just turned her head to look back out at the street ahead.

"That I'm here instead of Detective Deeks," he paused, tapping his palm gently on his knee, "that you feel that I'm replacing him, because let me assure you Agent Blye I—"

"You could never replace him," she interrupted, jaw clenched as the light turned green and she pulled off.

He nodded quietly, shooting her another glance.

"That's not my intention Agent Blye, really it isn't...I'm just here to get some experience, learn from the best and back you up if you need me," he finished, clearing his throat.

The rest of the journey was made in silence, although not as cold as before. As they pulled up at Zaras' apartment building, Kensi turned to Monroe, her dark eyes catching his.

"I got point," she murmured before pulling the door open and stepping out, "observe all you like, back me up if needed, but don't get comfortable Monroe, your position here is temporary," she finished before walking up the steps without a backwards glance.

* * *

Ben Zaras' eyes shone with unshed tears as Kensi and Monroe sat opposite him ten minutes later.

"She—she wouldn't hurt a fly...why would someone do this to her?" he asked, his voice breaking as he tightly clenched his hands together.

"Well, that's what we're here to try and figure out Mr Zaras...can you tell us, has your sister's behaviour changed at all in the last few months? Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary or—"

"Well, I know she's been a hell of a lot happier," he interrupted, his hand shaking as he reached for a glass of water on the coffee table, "the divorce took a lot out of her so—"

"The divorce?" Monroe interrupted, looking a little sheepish as Kensi shot him a look.

"Yeah," Zaras nodded, looking a little angry, "that bastard! First he cheats on her, then he tries to get everything in the divorce, it was brutal...but Emily came out on top," he smiled softly, it tinged with sadness, "she was just getting her life back on track..."

There was a beat of silence.

"And who was her ex-husband, Mr Zaras?" Kensi asked gently.

"Sergeant Greg Valley," he replied with venom in his tone.

"Sergeant?" the brunette asked, trepidation rising in her stomach.

"Yeah, he was a marine," he paused, looking to the (temporary) partners, "why?"

Before either of them could reply, Kensi's cell phone began to vibrate. With an apologetic smile to Zaras, she nodded to Monroe who began a secondary line of questioning, as she stood up and away from them, answering the call quietly.

"What's up Eric?"

"Kensi, we found a match for the code found on the tape. It's the number of a personnel file of an ex-marine named Gregory Valley..."

The agent nodded, glancing over her shoulder, watching intently as Monroe spoke gently to Zaras.

"Looks like we got a new suspect..."

* * *

It was past 2pm before Marty Deeks managed to drag himself out of bed, finally losing patience at tossing and turning and getting absolutely no sleep whatsoever. It had been a hell of a long night, a night of staring up at the ceiling and at his phone, his fingers itching to pick it up and press speed dial 1, even if was just to hear her voicemail.

With tired eyes and heavy limbs, he trudged into the kitchen, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. His neck creaked painfully, protesting at not having a pillow under it all night (he could still smell Andi's perfume on them, even though he changed the pillowcases) after he threw them off the bed in frustration.

He knew it was a mistake sleeping with Andi, knew that neither of them were in the right state of mind and was deeply regretting it. When she came in last night and threw her arms around him, he wanted desperately for it to feel right, to not feel the wave of erroneousness in his veins, in his heart that he felt the first time. Life would be so much simpler if he could love her again, fall back into the relationship he had when he was a teenager, a young man and have it actually work out this time.

But life wasn't simple and his feelings weren't easily manipulated no matter how hard he tried. It felt not quite right because deep down he knew he didn't want a relationship with Andi despite still having strong feelings for her, they weren't the right feelings. They were nostalgic, familiar but not enough to sustain a relationship, not everything she deserved.

He wanted her to have the best in life. And he was not the best for her. Or she for him. Now, he just had to figure out a way to tell her.

As he stood at the sink, his nostrils were suddenly filled with the sweet smell of something. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his oven on and smiled. His mom was making cookies.

At that thought, he was suddenly transported back to a time, over a year ago now where another brunette 'made' cookies. His partner, Kensi Blye as Melissa in that beautiful, red floral dress, looking the epitome of the glamorous and talented chef, only to be outed as a fraud. He couldn't help but chuckle, even now, as he remembered looking through the trash and finding the packaging that she not-to-subtly hid amongst tissue and egg shells.

His heart panged painfully in his chest as that image of her smirk and twinkling eyes as she smacked him on the ass for trying to steal a Snicker Doodle suddenly morphed into the pained, closed-off expression he was met me last night when she saw him and Andi.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he dug his hand into his pocket and dialled number one on his speed dial, his foot tapping impatiently on the floor. His heart sank further into his stomach as he got nothing but her voicemail. With a deep sigh, he raked his hand down his face, trying to frantically think of something to say just as the beep sounded.

"Hey Kens...it's uh, Deeks. Listen I—I know it's the first Friday of the month and you're probably off visiting Astrid and having poker night or espionage-themed movie-night or whatever it is you guys do after work but...can you please call me back when you get this? I—I'm sorry for what happened last night and I…I miss you, partner. Okay uh...later."

"Not exactly grovelling, but it's a start," a voice said from behind him.

"Good morning mom," he said, not turning around.

"Morning? Marty it's two in the afternoon," she replied a little exasperatedly, walking over to the oven and turning it down.

"Yeah well, I didn't sleep great," he sighed, turning on the faucet and filling a glass with water.

"I'm not surprised," she commented just as the timer went off.

Deeks turned to watch her take out the cookies, a tiny smile gracing his face as he saw what shape they were in.

"Really mom? Fire-trucks? Didn't realize I was six years old again..."

"Well, they cheered you up back then," she murmured, a flash of sadness tingeing her face as she thought back on his childhood, "I was hoping they might do the trick now."

Deeks stepped over to his mom and kissed her on the cheek, reaching out to take a cookie only to have his hand slapped away.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"They're too hot, you'll burn your fingers," she scolded as the blond rolled his eyes.

"I was a cop mom; I think I can handle burned fingers," he laughed before picking one up, only to hiss, "ow! Hot, hot!" before dropping it back down onto the dish.

"Told you so..." his mom smirked before her face turned a little serious, "you called her 'partner.'"

Deeks stilled at her words.

"Yeah well she is...was," he amended, rubbing his neck.

"And is that all she is? Was?" Angela pressed, her identical orbs boring into his.

He gaped at her, not sure how to answer that.

"No, I mean yes, I mean, no...she—she is my friend too, my best friend," he responded, breaking eye-contact, again reaching out to pick up a fire-engine-shaped cookie (this time blowing on it first) and taking a bite.

"And is that all you ever want her to be?" his mom asked as easily as if she were asking the time.

He nearly choked on the cookie as he heard those words, her face the most serious he'd seen it in quite a while. He began chewing frantically but before he could open his mouth to reply, she beat him to the punch.

"Don't even try and deny it Marty. I'm your mother, I know when you're lying, same thing goes for avoiding the truth. I see the way you look at that girl, I knew it the second I met her that she was Kensi, the woman who you talk and talk about every time we speak on the phone. Your voice changes when you mention her name, your eyes light up when she's in the room, your entire demeanour changes. Hell, even when you were rolling around on the couch with Andi I didn't see that much passion—"

"Mom!"

"And the fact is, you keep lying to not only me and probably the rest of the world but yourself too. And it's making you unhappy. Not being with her, whether it is as her partner and friend or as more, is hurting you. And it's hurting her. You didn't see her yesterday Marty, when she first stopped by the apartment. She's good at hiding her emotions, very good, but how she spoke about you, two minutes with the girl and I could tell she missed you, cared about you a lot. So give me one good reason why you're doing this? Why you're not only putting yourself through this but your best friend, the woman you're clearly in love with—"

"I'm not—" he broke off, unable to finish that sentence.

"See? You can't even deny it anymore," she turned to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently before picking up a cookie and walking out of the room, leaving him alone to ponder on what just happened.

"You're the bravest man I know Marty," she called over her shoulder, "now is time to prove it."

Deeks stood there, in the middle of his kitchen, open-mouthed, bitten cookie still in hand. With a nod, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and raced out the door, slamming it behind him.

He needed a walk.

* * *

"Take a seat Sergeant Major Riggs," Sam directed the elder man to a seat at one side of the table in the boat shed.

"You said you had news on Clarence's disappearance?" he asked, looking from Sam to Callen and back.

"Yes," Callen replied, "although, we're not sure what to make of it. One of our agents found a DVD at another crime scene, a murder of a young woman, and on this DVD was one of our kidnappers, Clarence tied to a chair behind him."

The Sergeant Major's eyebrows rose.

"Now, when our tech analysts raked through the footage, something caught their eye," he paused, sharing a look with his partner, "a number, a very specific number imbedded in the footage that led us to a personnel file for another one of your marines..."

"You think another marine is responsible for Clarence's abduction?" the elder man asked, clearly affronted by the idea.

"That's what it seems like, sir," Sam responded, "what can you tell us about Sergeant Greg Valley?"

Riggs seemed unsurprised at the mention of Valley's name.

"I know he had it out for Clarence and two more of my men too, Scott Lovejoy and Declan O'Dowd," he responded, resting his hands on the table.

"So you think he had motive to kidnap Clarence?"

Riggs nodded, looking grim.

"Definitely, Clarence is the reason Valley got discharged," he paused for a moment, "I can't divulge to the full extent the specifics you can understand, it's classified, but I can tell you that Clarence reported him for dishonourable conduct, Lovejoy and O'Dowd backing up the story..."

Callen and Sam let that information sink in.

"Do you think Valley is capable of stone-cold murder, Sergeant Major?" Callen asked, leaning forward to look him dead in the eye.

"He was beyond enraged when he was discharged...I'd say it isn't out of the realm of possibility. Why?" he finished, looking apprehensive of the answer.

"Because the young woman we found dead in the house with the message from Clarence's kidnappers was Valley's ex-wife, Emily Zaras..."

* * *

Guns at the ready, the team silently climbed the stairs of the apartment building, halting when they got to the fourth floor and quietly made their way down the corridor, towards door number 19.

"Greg Valley, NCIS, open up!" Sam Hanna yelled through the door before holding up his hand and counting down silently on his fingers.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

In one long swoop, the agent kicked in the door and stepped through it, his partner, Kensi and Monroe not far behind him.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"Looks like nobody's home," Kensi said as they all convened back in the kitchen.

"Looks like nobody's been home in quite a while," Callen replied, running his finger along the table before holding it up to show the dust.

Each agent took a room to search through, looking for anything that might tell them where Valley could have gone. Kensi was rummaging through his nightstand when she came across a stack of Polaroid photographs that were certainly interesting to say the least.

"Guys, I think I got something," she called, holding out one of the pictures for Sam to take as he, Callen and Monroe joined her.

"Whoa," Monroe breathed as he took a picture, his eyebrows shooting up.

"That's Emily Zaras," Callen commented pointing to the half-naked woman lying sprawled on a bed.

"Yeah, but that ain't Valley," Sam said, pointing to the unidentified man sprawled next to her.

"Looks like," Kensi murmured, slipping the photographs into an evidence bag, "we got a motive for her murder..."

* * *

"So what does Zaras' murder and Clarence's abduction have to do with the other?" Callen asked as they all made their way into the bullpen.

"Well, she was Valley's wife who we already know is capable of infidelity and Valley worked with Clarence...maybe she was having an affair with him too?" Kensi hypothesized, sitting down at her desk and watching intently as Monroe stayed standing.

"Maybe...but why kidnap Clarence? Why not just kill him?" Sam asked, taking a seat at his desk, the fact Monroe refused to sit not escaping him either.

"How do we know he hasn't? I mean, there's been no ransom, no—"

"Yeah but why leave that tape at Emily's house? Why give us proof of life if he was just going to kill him?" Kensi cut across Monroe.

"How do we even know that was Valley on the tape, though? I mean, why would he go to the trouble of imbedding his own personnel file number into the footage when it would only help to prove his guilt?" Callen pondered, sitting next to Kensi.

"Unless...the person on the tape wanted us to look into Valley," Monroe piped up, shifting his weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable still standing as the rest remained seated.

"But isn't that just helping us?" Kensi asked, folding her arms.

"Maybe someone wants to help," Monroe shrugged.

"You think that maybe one of the others is an unwilling participant?" Sam jumped in, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk.

"Maybe, either that or Valley is innocent and they're trying to frame him," the junior agent replied.

"Well, either way, we're not going to get much else done tonight," Callen stood up, donning his jacket, "Eric and Nell have put out a search for Valley and are running facial rec on the guy in the photograph, techs are raking through his house and the tape is being reviewed for any more information so I'll see you guys later..." he trailed off, beginning to walk away.

"Yo, G! Where do you think you're going?" he heard his partner shout after him.

"For a walk!"

* * *

The sun was setting on the park, its dim light shining through the mass of trees, illuminating the ground with a vast amount of shadows of all shapes and sizes. Marty Deeks heaved a deep sigh as he sat down on the bench, looking out onto the playground were the older children were still playing as the younger ones were being led home by their exhausted-looking parents.

It was tranquil, the soft murmurs of laughing people as he tried to ignore his inner turmoil, his mind racing as he reflected on the bomb-shell his mom dropped in his lap. Exercise of any kind usually worked wonders for clearing his mind but it seemed that that just wasn't going to cut it today, the revelation was just too much.

He was in love with his partner.

It may have been his mom that said it, but he couldn't deny it.

It was why things had felt so off with him and Andi, it's why he was so jealous of the new guy while still being concerned that he wasn't good enough to have her back. He always knew he was attracted to her, god, how could he not be? But over the years, with banter and teasing and high-risk situations and uncover ops and cover-kisses, somewhere along the way he'd fallen for her, hard. Their 'thing' was so much more than just that now. He could feel it, every time he looked at her, spoke to her, thought about her...

He was so screwed.

"Don't think too hard Deeks, you might hurt yourself," a familiar voice came from his right as a figure sat down beside him.

"You know that from experience, do ya Callen?" he replied, not taking his eyes off a father and son who were flying a model aeroplane off in the distance.

"Something like that," the agent smirked leaning back on the bench and stretching out his legs.

"So, what's your approach gonna be huh? Nell tried coffee, Eric tried surfing, Sam tried punching me in the face and Hetty tried offering me a job...none worked," he turned his head to regard his ex-colleague.

"Hetty offered you a job?"

He nodded, turning his attention back to the park.

"Yeah, she told me that the position of NCIS agent is there if I want it," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Callen nodded silently, following Deeks' eye-line and watching as the small plane soared above the heads of a man and his child. They were silent for a long time then, the sky darkening slightly, a chill rising in the air.

"You're a great cop Deeks," Callen said suddenly, "the best I've seen. I get it if you don't want to go back, I really do, but I think that you'd really benefit from joining NCIS full-time."

"Do they always send you or is there a recruitment video?"

Callen shook his head, realizing that this was the wrong route to go. Time for a bit of brutal honesty.

"The team changed the day you joined us Deeks," he murmured, eyes straight ahead, "you—brought something with you that just made the days seem a little less long, made the job seem a little less dark. Not only did your background in undercover help us solve dozens of cases but you did something that none of us really could do before. You made Kensi laugh. I mean really laugh unlike anything me or Sam had ever seen. We could see how good you were for her and how good your partnership was from the get-go. You're a good team, are both great at what you do and complement each other.

"You've gone from strength to strength over the years Deeks. Your input and skills are invaluable to the team and honestly, without them, we are lacking something. We'll manage without you, we have before, but that's not what it's about. You're a part of our team now, a key member in our messed up version of a family and I for one will be sad to see you go.

"But if you don't want to come back for me or Hetty or the rest of the team and you don't want to do it for your career, then do it for Kensi. You and she have a good thing going, one of the best partnerships I've ever seen...you've got her back like nobody I've ever met and she has yours one hundred per cent. So just...think about what you're really giving up before you decide to throw in the towel..." he paused, letting his words sink in.

Deeks gaped at him, speechless. Well, that was unexpected.

"And I...want to apologize, for what went down in the gym. I never should have pushed you like that, it was out of line," he turned to look at him, holding out his hand for him to shake.

Deeks stared at it for a moment, before clasping his hand and shaking it.

After a moment, Callen nodded and stood up, glancing down at the ex-liaison.

"NCIS would really benefit from having you as an agent, Deeks. Think about what I said," he finished, nodding one more time before turning and walking away.

Deeks stared at his retreating back, immobilised on the bench long after Callen had disappeared from sight.

Well, wasn't this a day just full of surprises?

* * *

A knock sounded at the door, jarring her out of her zombie-like state as she sprawled on her couch, her eyes unfocused and staring off into space.

"I'm coming," she grumbled as she trudged to the door, unlocked it and cracked it open.

"Well, don't you look like death warmed up," Julia Feldman commented as Kensi stood back and let her into her house.

"Hoarders marathon? You're really not in a good place," she remarked as she took a seat on the couch, opening her bag and taking out a jumbo-sized packet of Oreos and a box of glazed donuts with all Kensi's favourite toppings.

"I—I'm fine mom, really, you want something to drink?" Kensi asked distractedly, running hand through her hair.

"I want you to tell me what's wrong. I can tell it's not a work thing so don't even try that 'it's classified' crap…" she trailed off, watching as her daughter heaved a sigh and sank down into the couch cushions, her body sagging tiredly.

"I…I don't even know where to start. I'm not even sure how to explain—"

"It's Marty, isn't it?"

Kensi caught her mom's eye and suddenly Julia knew, she could see, plain as day the fresh pain that brewed there, just behind her gaze. It broke her heart.

"Oh sweetheart…what happened? Is he okay? Are you okay? What—"

"He quit."

Stunned silence followed those words. Julia only needed to spend two minutes with Marty Deeks to tell he loved his job, adored working with NCIS, with her daughter, she couldn't ever imagine him quitting.

Suddenly, it was if Kensi had been wound too tight, she leapt off the couch like a spring and began pacing back and forth, rambling, her flood-gates bursting wide for the first time in a long time as she desperately tried to work through her frantic thoughts, her whirlwind of emotions.

"I mean, he just up and quit and-"

"You're pissed," Julia stated simply, knowing that it was so much more than that and hoping her daughter would elaborate.

"Yeah! I'm really pissed and I mean, I get he's upset and he's pissed at the LAPD but he didn't even think about it! He just made this huge snap-decision and just expected everyone to accept it right away and move on—"

"But you haven't," her mom said, feeling as if she was really starting to scratch the service of the problem.

Kensi whirled around and stared down at her, her eyes shining brightly.

"I can't," she half-whispered, "no matter how hard I try to stay mad at him, to just accept that we're not partners anymore and that he's a grown man and can make his own decisions…I just, I see his face, I remember everything he went through the last while and I—I just want to—"

"Be there for him…" Julia finished as Kensi swallowed deeply, nodding to herself.

"He's shut me out," she murmured softly, the hurt evident in her voice.

"But that's not just it, is it? Something else happened recently…" Julia trailed off, trying to nudge her daughter to continue.

Here, an uncomfortable grimace crossed her daughter's face as she shifted on the couch, her thoughts clearly a mile away.

"I—I may have walked in on him with…" her voice died in her throat, unable to continue, not particularly wanting to share this information with her mother, for fear she'd read too much into her reaction.

"He was with another woman?" Julia asked, her uncanny ability to read her daughter not failing her.

Kensi nodded, looking like it physically pained her to do so. Her mom knew how hard this was for her to talk about. She was never much of the 'sharing is caring' type.

"He and Andi have a past," she murmured softly, still not able to look at her mother, instead picking at a loose thread in her jeans, "but I don't think it's a good idea trying to rekindle anything in the headspace he's in and—"

"You're jealous," Julia smirked.

"What? No!" she scoffed, still unable to meet her gaze.

"Kensi…" her mom began, leaning forward and taking her daughter's hands in hers. "I know you find it hard to open up. You heart is safely guarded by walls and walls of steel that have built up over time to help shield you from all the pain that life throws at you. But you have to ask yourself, who is the one person that can penetrate those walls? Because it's not me…" she paused, squeezing her hands gently.

"Marty has helped you open up, even more in the last two years since we've been back in contact. I can see the change in you, the warmth that shines through you when you're together. I know in the past you've shot my opinion on you two down and maybe you have every right to but…sweetheart, I don't think you can anymore…" she leaned even further, trying to catch her eye.

"Harsh truth, honey? I think you're trying to avoid something that deep down you've known for a long time…but I won't tell you what you feel. But I will ask. Are you in love with your partner?"

Kensi snorted as she heard that all-too familiar question again.

"You're not the first person to ever ask me that," she replied, playing the avoidance card she so favourably plays as she remembered Astrid ask her that precise question a year before. She made a mental note to call her to let her know she'd be a little late for poker tonight…

Julia nodded, letting that information sink in for a moment.

"You say that it isn't the first time someone has asked you if you're in love with Marty? Well, I can tell you, it won't be the last. Because how you feel about him, despite your best efforts, is written all over you, when you look at him, when you speak about him and when you think about him. The man is a trained detective, I think you'll only be able to hide your true feelings for so long before he picks up on them…" she trailed off, watching as Kensi broke away and stood up, her pacing returning.

"I think he already has," she whispered, the unspoken admission behind her words, they oddly freeing, "maybe not to the full extent but…he can feel it, just like I can…"

The elder brunette stared for a moment in silence as her daughter worried a hole into her floor.

"Then," she started, standing up and joining her, resting her palm on her shoulder, "maybe it's time you told him the full extent of what you feel for him."

Kensi stared at her, biting her lip nervously as she tried to fathom the possibility of even trying to tell him.

"Mom I—"

The loud buzz of her cell-phone interrupted her as it rang from her pocket. With an apologetic look, she retrieved it and stepped away, answering quickly.

"Blye."

"Kensi! We found another code imbedded in the tape," Eric rambled quickly, "it's coordinates, they lead to a warehouse about twenty miles outside of the city. Nell and I got eyes on it now; it looks like it's our kidnappers' hide-out…"

* * *

Marty Deeks climbed the stairs of his apartment building, taking deep breaths as his mind continued to race. He was almost glad that Mrs Davis told him the elevator wasn't working but frowned when he arrived on his floor, only to have her step out of it, offer him a cheeky grin before entering her apartment.

"Touché," he murmured before unlocking his door.

"Mom I'm ho—Andi," he gaped as his eyes landed on the familiar brunette sitting on his armchair, regarded him with interest.

"Angela let me in, she left about ten minutes ago," she informed him, her tone even.

"You uh…forgot your coat," he muttered, picking up her coat up off the back of the couch and stepping over to her, holding it out for her to take.

"Thanks," she mumbled, not looking him in the eye.

The air in the room was beyond uncomfortable, it thick with tension and awkwardness. Deeks cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, wondering how to ease into conversation, trying to put out of his mind the fact that the last time he and Andi were like this with each other was just before they broke up over a decade ago.

"You want something to eat, drink—"

"I want to talk, Marty," she cut across him, her face marred by a grimace.

Oh no, nothing good came along with that face.

"I—did you apologize to your mom and Kensi for last night?" she asked, apparently changing tact, standing up and folding her arms across her chest.

"Yeah," he nodded, "well, my mom anyway, I uh…haven't seen Kensi…"

Andi seemed to find that interesting but didn't comment.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, finding no need in prolonging the inevitable.

"You know what," she groused, running a hand through her hair.

"What happened between us it was—"

"A mistake," he finished grimly, mirroring her stance.

Her eyebrows rose, a flash of something passing over her face.

"That wouldn't exactly be the word I'd use but…yeah, I think it might have been," she shifted her weight from foot to foot, her eyes cast downwards.

"I just—I think we were both looking for something in each other that just isn't there," she continued, finally dragging her gaze up from the floor to reach his.

"I do love you Marty, I always have, you were my first friend, my first boyfriend, my first everything, a piece of my heart will always belong to you but I think…I think your heart belongs to someone else…"

And there it was. The start of a conversation he knew was brewing. They were getting to the heart of the matter now…literally.

"How did you know?" he asked, wondering how a highly trained uncover operative couldn't fool her.

"Your face, when you woke up. For a split second you looked—terrified," she chuckled a little deprecatingly.

"You slept on the right," he mumbled, casting his mind back to yesterday morning when he woke up and saw the brunette hair sprawled on his pillow and for a fraction of a second thought she was someone else entirely.

"There's only one person I ever surrendered the right side to…" he trailed off, realizing too late how that sounded.

"You slept with Kensi?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up in shock.

"What? No! Well technically—it's a long story but…when I woke up and saw you on the right side I guess I…freaked out a little," he murmured apologetically.

Andi watched intently, her brown eyes twinkling as he crossed the room to her, reaching out and taking her hand.

"You were the first girl that I ever fell in love with Andi and I wish things didn't end the way they did. I guess a part of me wanted to go back, to try and fix the mistakes we made as kids, to give each other another chance but…" he broke off, hanging his head.

"But we're not the same people we were. We both grew up, moved on, fell in love with different people," she paused, "me, with a wonderful man named Mitchell and you with the kickass Kensi Blye," she grinned, reaching up and cupping his cheek.

"Mitchell?" he asked, ignoring the end of her sentence.

She smiled a little sadly at him.

"My ex-fiancé, we broke up last year…" she shook her head as if to rid herself of the painful memories, "but don't change the subject, Marty. Look me in the eye and tell me you're not in love with Kensi Blye."

"I can't," he murmured, shaking his head, a small smile gracing his face.

"It's no declaration, but it's a start," she nodded, a smile gracing her face too, if not a little sad as he reached up to where her hand lay on his cheek and held her hand.

"Just don't wait too long…Kensi deserves to know," she poked him in the shoulder before slipping her jacket on and turning to leave.

"Just—keep in touch, won't you Marty? I—I don't want to lose you completely again…" she threw him one last smile before opening the door and walking out into the corridor.

"Look after yourself Andi Benson, thank you," he kissed her cheek, watching her retreating back until she stepped into the elevator and out of sight.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped back into his apartment and leaned against the door, resting his head and staring up at the ceiling.

He had a lot of thinking to do…

* * *

Two cars pulled up a half-mile from a warehouse, two people emerging from each, all retrieving guns from their holsters and racing towards the building in single-file. The darkness was truly descending now, but they couldn't risk flashlights, relying fully instead on their adjusting eyes.

"Me and Sam got the perimeter, Kensi, you and Monroe split up, take the lower level and we'll follow your lead," Callen whispered as they entered the forecourt, a few hundred yards from the building.

Kensi and Monroe nodded, tacitly taking in their surroundings, guns raised, eyes and ears wide open for any sign of movement.

As they reached the entrance, Monroe got the handle, as Kensi pointed her gun at the door. Quickly and quietly, he flung it open. Her eyes raked the immediate vicinity for a moment before nodding to him and stepping through, pointing to her left, where Monroe instantly began sweeping.

Kensi ploughed ahead, a door at the very end of the warehouse catching her attention. Turning back, she saw that Monroe was doing fine, going through a door to the right of where she stood. It was unnerving to say the least, not having Deeks have her back as she went through normal procedure, but she shook that thought off, focusing on the task at hand.

Pulling open the door, she did a quick check left and right before continuing forward into a room that was surrounded by heavy machinery. In the distance, she could hear a clanging noise, like chains scraping against metal. With a bite of her lip, she concentrated on walking as quickly and quietly as she could.

Suddenly, a loud thump caught her attention and she whirled around, only to be met by a familiar person.

"What—what are you doing here? How did you get—"

A shot rang out in the dead of the night, piercing the silence and reverberating off the walls.

Kensi gasped, stumbling back, her gun falling from her grasp and hitting the floor with a smack. Looking down she was shocked to see a large, crimson stain on her shirt. Frowning, she pressed her fingers to it, a tingling sensation rising from her tips all the way up her arm.

As if in slow motion, her knees buckled from underneath her, her body collapsing onto the hard, dusty floor, her polychrome eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling until the darkness began to drip, like little ink blots, like the blood seeping from her body, at the edge of her vision until all that was left was…

Nothing.

**A/N: I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY! It had to be done. Because I'm just that evil. *Maniacal laugh***

**Please Review! **

**~Cortexikid x**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

**"Right now, I'm not your partner so I'm not breaking any rules. I'm just a very concerned friend with some very strong feelings and—just please don't kill me for this Kens…" he trailed off, his gaze lingering on her pale face and closed eyes, before leaning forward and capturing her lips with his.**


	30. Sanguinity Part IV

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 30: Sanguinity (Part IV)**

**A/N: And here it is, the big 30. Wow. I still can't believe I've gotten this far. And as uber cheesy as it sounds, I would have given up long ago had it not been for all you amazing reviewers. So, this chapter, part IV/IV of the aftermath is dedicated to all of you. You guys rock harder than a Flea fan at a Chili's concert! XD**

**Disclaimer: Alas, I am neither Shane Brennan nor his evil twin, therefore I cannot be the owner of the wonderful NCIS: LA :(**

**SHOUT-OUT TO: ImpactedJudgement for all her awesomeness! You are amazing my fellow grammar-enthusiast :D**

**WARNING: A little weirdness ahead. But please, bear with me. I promise there's method in my madness! I hope you guys just roll with it. Everything will be back to normal and business as usual by the next chapter, don't worry. I won't make a habit of it lol XD Oh! And very small spoiler for 4x04!**

* * *

**WOTD: SANGUINITY; sang****·****ui****·****ni****·****ty**_** noun**_**. Hopefulness. Buoyancy. To have a hopeful disposition. **

A loud chorus of footsteps, beeping machines and dozens of voices surrounded the gurney of one Kensi Blye as she was rushed into County General Hospital.

"Female. Late 20s. GSW to the chest. BP is 76 over 60…" a paramedic informed a doctor as they burst through the doors and into the ER.

"Is she—is she gonna be alright?" asked a slightly panicked man, hot on their heels, trying to keep following them.

"Please sir, stay here, let us do our jobs," the doctor held up his hand to keep him at bay before turning on his heel and racing after the medical team.

Zackary Monroe dragged a weary palm across his face and plonked down in an uncomfortable plastic chair. After what could have been days (time seemed at a complete stand-still since he found Kensi on the dirty warehouse floor, lying in a large pool of her own blood) he looked up to see Agents Callen and Hanna running towards him, having haphazardly abandoned their car in the parking lot.

"Where is she? Has she gone into surgery? What did the doctor say?" Callen bombarded him with questions as Sam whipped out his cell phone and began making the dreaded phone call to Hetty.

"I—" Monroe shook his head, the gravity of the situation striking him dumb.

Some first day this was turning out to be…

* * *

"Yes, thank you Mr Hanna, I was informed moments ago. You and Mr Callen question those found at the scene, I shall be at the hospital presently," Henrietta Lange finished, her tone grim as she hung up the phone and caught the frantic eyes of Eric Beale and Nell Jones.

"What did Sam say? Is Kensi o—"

"Ms Jones, Mr Beale, I need you to get all the security footage you can from the warehouse district, see if you can get an ID on Ms Blye's shooter," the petite brunette interrupted, standing up out of her chair and quickly gathering her things.

"Keep me updated on any and all developments," she called over her shoulder as she headed towards the door only to stop dead in her tracks, "Ms Blye has be taken into surgery, I will call with any news as soon as I can…" she finished, before taking out her cell-phone and continuing on her way, scrolling down until she saw a familiar name.

**Mr Deeks.**

This is one phone-call she hoped she would never have to make…

* * *

She was cold.

There was a draft, little gusts of wind wafting from somewhere but she couldn't see where. She couldn't see anything…

She was surrounded by darkness.

Where was she? She couldn't remember…how did she get wherever she was?

"Kensi? Kensi!" a voice called, sounding muffled and far away.

Quickly, she turned on the spot, her dark eyes surveying the blackness, the nothingness that engulfed her.

"Kensi! Kens…where are you?" the voice continued, echoing all around her, in her head, in her ears, in her soul…_wait_…she knew that voice.

"Deeks? Deeks! I'm here! I'm…I—I don't know where but just follow the sound of my voice," she yelled to her partner, her heart-beat hammering in her ears as she began to wildly turn on the spot, as suddenly, colour leaked from the darkness and she was surrounded morphing, whirling images, spinning around and around like some grotesque carousel, making her a little sick to her stomach.

"What—what's going on?" she asked no one in particular, shaking her head to rid it of its sudden fogginess as faces formed in front of her like a montage. Callen, Sam, Hetty, Nell, Eric, Monroe, her mom…and lastly, Deeks. He stayed the longest, his entire body appearing like a mirage, his face a little twisted, a little harsh, his eyes hardened and almost angry, so unlike the Deeks she knew.

"There you are," he said, his voice sharper than she ever heard it, "what the hell is the matter with you? I leave you alone for five minutes and—Jesus, Kensi…" he spat, venom dripping from each syllable as he began circling her, his shoulders tense, his jaw set.

Kensi frowned, not understanding what he was talking about.

"Deeks what—why are you so pissed? What happened?" she asked, her eyes catching his, _something_ beginning to seep into her veins.

Discomfort? Worry? Fear?

No, that couldn't be it. She'd never be afraid of Deeks. But if it wasn't that then what—

Something caught her attention then. Something that Deeks was now leaning against, his arms folded across his chest as he stared down at the ground.

Her eyes raked the large machine that her partner was resting against. _Where had she seen that before?_ Biting her lip, she took an attentive step towards him, noticing as he tensed up, his eyes still staring at something on the ground, something that was starting to take shape in front of her eyes. Browns, blues, whites and reds all mixed together, dancing in a swirl on the floor before settling, sticking together to form a figure, a woman, lying sprawled out at Deeks' feet, crimson liquid spilling from her body.

It was her.

Kensi gasped as she stared down at herself, her mind reeling a mile a minute, the shock striking her speechless, freezing her to the spot.

"I stop being your partner for less than a week and you go and get yourself shot," he muttered to her, his eyes never leaving the Kensi lying on the ground, "you know I'll never forgive myself if you don't make it Kens…I'll never recover…" he trailed off, his voice breaking.

Kensi gaped at him, unsure of what to say, aching to reach out and touch him, reassure him that she'll be fine, that this was all some sort of crazy dream that they were both having. _Had they both been exposed to LSD this time? Was this some sort of crazy trip?_ If so, it wasn't nearly as much fun as people say…

"Come on," dream-Deeks (that was what he was, right?) said suddenly, "there's something you gotta see…"

* * *

"You really need to cut your hair, Marty," Angela Deeks murmured with a roll of her eyes as they sat in front of the TV, watching an incredibly bad late-night movie.

"Says the woman that wanted dreads Bob-Marley-style back in the 80s," he replied before taking another bite of his pie.

"Hey, it's better looking like a reggae legend than a cartoon stoner," she held up her hands before sinking back into the couch.

He merely shrugged in response, shoving more pie in his mouth, offering her a cheeky, food-filled smile to which she grimaced and shook her head at his grossness.

"So…have you thought more about what you're gonna do?" she asked gently, her voice adopting a more serious tone.

With a sigh, her son swallowed the last of his dessert, placing the plate on the coffee table before leaning back, resting his elbow on the back of his couch, angling his body to face his mother.

"I have…but that doesn't mean I know what to do, mom," he hesitated, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, that's easy, just tell her you love her," she replied simply, as if commenting on the weather.

"Oh yeah mom, I just walk up to the woman I've been partners with for nearly four years now and say, 'oh by the way Kens, I've fallen in love with you. Wanna give our thing a shot?' Good plan," he grumbled, not looking at her.

"That's the first time you've actually admitted it out loud, Mr Smart-Ass," Angela pointed out, "and don't say it was all sarcasm. You do love her…" she trailed off, watching intently as he dragged his eyes up to meet hers, sincerity and something else reflected in them, something that looked a lot like a mixture of fear and joy.

"I know," he whispered just as his cell-phone began to ring. Offering his mom an apologetic smile, he picked up his phone from the table and answered it, his voice quiet:

"Deeks."

"Mr Deeks? It's Hetty…" his ex-boss' voice came from the other end of the line.

A feeling engulfed the ex-liaison at the sound of her voice. Something ominous and downright terrifying. A chill shot up his spine.

"What—what's up, Hetty?" he asked, his tone a hell of a lot more confident than he felt.

"It's Ms Blye…" Hetty began, her tone grim.

Angela stiffened beside him, watching as a shadow passed over her son's face, a darkness settling in his eyes.

"What—what's wrong? Is she okay? Where—"

"She's been shot, Mr Deeks…"

Deeks' heart plummeted into his gut, his grip loosening on the phone, almost dropping it.

_This couldn't be happening…_

Suddenly, he bolted off the couch, his eyes wild, searching the apartment frantically for his keys as he rambled to his ex-boss:

"I'll be there in five minutes! What—what hospital is she at? How—how bad is it? Leg? Arm? Will she need surgery? Does she need anything? Can I talk to her ye—"

"She's in surgery as we speak…I'm afraid her injury is quite severe Mr Deeks," Hetty replied, her voice calm and yet Deeks was trained enough to hear a hint of worry in her tone.

That was not a good sign.

"I—I'll be there ASAP," he assured her firmly before hanging up (for fear he might hear even more bad news) and racing over to put on his shoes.

"Marty, Marty honey, what's going on?" Angela asked worriedly, standing up, her eyes following her son as he whizzed around his apartment like a wound-up spring just released.

"It—it's Kensi. She—" he broke off, not able to stand still as he searched frantically for his keys, "she uh…dammit! Where are my damn keys?!" he growled, kicking his trash can in frustration.

Angela plucked said keys off of the kitchen table and held them out. As he reached for them, she pulled her hand back, her eyebrows rising as she saw a hint of irritation cross his face.

"Mom just—give them to me, I gotta go, Kensi…she was shot…" he swallowed deeply, wiping a hand across his face, "she's in surgery, I'm going to the hospital to—"

"I'll drive you," Angela interrupted, already making her way to the door.

"Alright..." he agreed hurriedly, practically sprinting out the door, "just—step on it."

* * *

"You're not gonna get away with this," Nick Clarence growled as Greg Valley pulled him out of the van and shoved him towards a dilapidated looking house with its windows boarded up and its lawn wild and over grown.

"Oh I beg to differ Serge, my partner in crime just shot an NCIS agent so I think that'll prove to be a worthy distraction for anyone that wants to follow us," he smirked, pausing to unlock the door, one hand still clutching Nick's shoulder painfully.

"Who are you working with?" Clarence asked, casting his mind back to Scott Lovejoy, a man he once called his friend who for all intents and purposes seemed to be working with Valley but at the same time, showed great remorse for the situation and even went out of his way to reassure the Sergeant. Clarence just didn't know what to believe anymore…

"Oh, everything in due time Nicky boy," Valley grinned manically, an eyebrow quirked before he unceremoniously shoved the man through the door, towards an area that appeared to be set up for this very occasion.

"What is it you always said, Serge? Always have a Plan B?" Valley asked, shoving the barrel of his gun into Clarence's gut and forcing him to sit down heavily onto a chair that was nailed to the floor before taking out some rope and bounding his hands and legs.

"Well," he smirked as he finished the last knot, "welcome to Plan B."

* * *

Sam Hanna leaned his palms down onto the table, his dark eyes shining with a fresh anger, an irritation, as the man at the other side of the table merely smirked up at him, not breathing a word.

"I'll ask one more time…who shot Agent Blye?" he growled, as Callen came to stand behind him, his azure gaze just as steely as his partner's.

"And I told you, Agent Hanna," the strong-accented man replied matter of factly, "that I don't know who shot your colleague. If you recall, I was outside when you apprehended me. I have no knowledge who was inside the building or what said individuals were doing," he shrugged, his being the epitome of nonchalance.

"Well, let's see what your associate has to say about that," Callen murmured, turning to Sam before they nodded to the guard who came in and escorted the man they now knew to be Farid Agrajeeta known ally to a sector of Saudi Arabian terrorists.

Agrajeeta stood up, smirk on his face as the guard led him out, hands behind his back, barely batting an eyelid as Scott Lovejoy was pushed in the door, his eyes wide as they landed on the two agents. Callen and Sam barely had time to open their mouths before Scott spoke up, his voice clear and concise, not an ounce of worry in his tone:

"I'll tell you everything I know."

* * *

"Marty! Marty slow down!" Angela Deeks gasped as her son raced ahead of her, bolting into the hospital like a jack-rabbit on steroids, racing towards the nurse's station.

"Kensi Blye! Is she out of surgery? What room is she in? Is she o—"

"Sir, please calm down. Are you her emergency contact or immediate family?" a nurse asked calmly, tapping her computer keys, her eyes never leaving the screen.

"I'm her partner," he retorted, remembering that that seemed to work the last time Kensi was admitted to hospital.

"Okay sir, if you'd like to take a seat in the waiting room down the corridor to the left, you'll be updated on her status as soon as she's out of surgery," the nurse looked up, her smile a little grim as she eyed the almost-hysterical young man and what must have been his weary mother.

"Thank you," he nodded, taking off towards the waiting room without a backwards glance, Angela hot on his heels.

"Marty slow down, I'm sure she'll be—"

Deeks whirled around suddenly, his eyes a little wild as he stared down at his mother, an indistinguishable expression on his face.

"She _will_ be okay. She has to be," he said, no room for argument in his tone as he turned back around and entered the waiting room.

There, sitting a few feet away with her hands clasped in her lap was Henrietta Lange, her face pensive, her eyes downcast.

"Mr Deeks," she nodded, dragging her gaze up from the floor before standing up and holding out her hand to his mom, "and you must be Angela," she offered her a wry smile, "I'm Hetty, so nice to meet you, I just wish it were under better circumstances…" she trailed off as Angela shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you too," she murmured in reply, glancing from Hetty to her son and back again.

"Have—have you heard anything?" Deeks asked hurriedly, running a hand through his hair and trying to stop himself from pacing back and forth in agitation.

"Nothing as of yet, no," Hetty replied grimly, gesturing to an empty chair for Angela to sit.

Deeks shook his head in frustration, unable to stop himself now, pacing up and down the narrow waiting room, arms folded, shoulders hunched. Suddenly, he halted, a thought coming to mind.

"Has anyone contacted Julia?"

The last syllable had barely left his lips before the woman in question appeared in the doorway, eyes wide, composure frazzled.

"What happened to my daughter?!"

* * *

A mist lay like a blanket in the darkness, a fog closing in, wrapping her in a sheath of translucent air, ghost-like and ominous as she followed her partner blindly.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice distant, as she stared at the back of his head.

He remained silent, his stance never faltering as he strode onward, never looking back, his shoulders tense, his posture far more straight than she ever seen in reality.

"Deeks…where are you taking me?" her voice was more demanding this time, her patience wearing thin.

"You're running this show Kens," he replied, still not looking at her, "I'm just along for the ride."

Those words almost had an echo to them, reverberating in her ears as suddenly the fog lifted, whirling colours seeping in from all around until she was standing in a place she had not seen for years.

"The gym," she defined unnecessarily to Deeks (who had now stopped) as she saw another Deeks, the one she first knew as 'Jason' approach another version of herself, the one he first knew as 'Tracy.'

"The day we met," she murmured, looking at him sideways before her gaze returned to 'Jason' and 'Tracy' as they interacted, each face lined with suspicion, their eyes interlocked for a moment.

"I can't believe you remembered what clothes I was wearing," her partner shook his head.

"I can't believe you remembered I was wearing an 'over the shoulder' bag," she snorted with a roll of her eyes.

"You know me Kens, I'm meticulous with details…especially when it comes to you," he finished, a hint of _something_ in his tone as Jason Wyler stepped away and Corporal Craig Mangold began speaking to the 'grief-stricken' brunette.

Before Kensi could question him, the gym began to dissolve, the colours falling away, swirling into something else.

"I knew, the first time I laid eyes on you that you were important," Deeks said suddenly, his gaze focused on 'Tracy' as she edged towards 'Jason' in Danny Zuna's house, staring him down like no-one ever had before, murmurings of nude pictures and drug-deals passing between them.

"Could you feel it too?" he asked quietly, an enigmatical expression on his face.

"I—"

She was cut off as the swirl of colour began again, this time like raindrops falling from an invisible sky. But this was hardly noticed by Kensi as she couldn't help but stare at her partner, inspecting every inch of his face.

She frowned as he continued to avoid her gaze, before turning her attention back to the whirling which began to relax, each raindrop merging together into one large mass, the scene still a little unfocused, unclear.

_What was all of this? Why were they on this trip down memory lane?_

Her frown deepened as she pondered that, the urge for answers flooding her veins.

"What are you? The Deeks of Christmas past?"

"Hey, this is your messed up fantasy, you tell me Ebenezer," he smirked, a cheeky eyebrow arched in her direction, the first somewhat pleasant expression crossing his face.

The familiar fluttering low in her stomach at his smile was ignored with a shake of her head, her eyes focusing on the room before her. Her heart panged in her chest as she realized just what this was.

There, not ten feet from them, lay Marty Deeks, eyes closed, skin tinged pale as an anxious, nail-biting Kensi Blye stood at his bedside, her dark eyes raking in his form.

"The day you got shot," she breathed softly, the memory jarring her, the worry as fresh as it was that very moment when she heard her partner had been shot.

He nodded, his face turning grim. As if reading her mind, feeling her worry, he took a step closure to her, his eyes finally meeting hers.

"Looks like now we're even…"

As those words echoed in her ears, a sharp pain pierced Kensi's chest, causing her to double over, gasping for breath. Out of watering eyes she could see Deeks watching her, his face terribly dejected, as if he knew something she didn't.

Something was really wrong…

* * *

Gleaming, pristine walls stared back at wide, glistening eyes. A foot jittered up and down, the steady thump almost enough to lull him into a trance-like state if his brain were not alight with anxiety. It had been two hours now. Two hours since he heard that his partner had been shot. Two unbearable, worry-ridden, tortuous hours of a tapping foot, sniffling mother and unflappable boss, hawk-gaze steady in their observation of him, watching intently for any sign of cracks in his foundation.

Cautious ears perked up as footsteps drew near, frantic in their pace. Marty Deeks tore his eyes from the bare wall to find a tall, dark-haired man of Hispanic origin walk straight over to Hetty, wordlessly asking for a moment in private. The ex-detective's head turned as Hetty nodded, her orbs finally severed from him as she stood up and walked down the corridor with the unknown man.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Deeks followed, ignoring the stranger's eyes as they bore into him, the words he was feverishly muttering to Hetty dying in his throat as the ex-liaison halted behind the petite brunette, arms folded, eyebrows raising silently as if daring him to continue.

"Uh, hi," Monroe nodded to Deeks as Hetty turned on the spot, her own eyebrows rising but in a more knowing glance.

"Hi, I'm Marty Deeks. Who are you?" he asked, folding his arms and tilting his head.

"I'm Zackary Monroe."

"The golfer?"

Monroe frowned at him, before looking to Hetty.

"No, Kensi's partner."

Stone-cold silence followed that statement as Deeks' shifted his weight, a dark expression crossing his face.

"Oh, you mean the guy that's supposed to have her back? Well, awesome job so far buddy…" he trailed off, anger fuelling his veins as he stared the scandalized Monroe down.

"Hey man, how could I—"

"That's enough gentlemen," Hetty interrupted with a rising of her hand, her eyes trained mostly on Deeks as he began to speak again.

"You have an update? You get the guy that shot—"

Monroe took a step forward, cutting Deeks off.

"We can't discuss NCIS matters to a—"

"Hey, new guy,_ I'm_ her partner okay? So you can discuss whatever the hell has to do with her shooting with me. Now have you or have you not got something to share?" he asked, jaw clenched, almost daring he or Hetty to argue with him.

Monroe broke eye-contact to share a glance with his boss. Upon her small nod, he sighed, clearing his throat.

"I just spoke to Callen. They have Scott Lovejoy in custody. He isn't sure where Valley might have taken Clarence but he maintains that he and two of the Saudi Arabians were scouting the perimeter when Kensi was shot. As for Valley, well, he was in with Clarence so…there had to have been another shooter at the scene. One that got away…" he trailed off at the look of indignation on Deeks' face.

Suddenly, Julia Feldman rose from her seat, her eyes ablaze as she stormed over, tapping Deeks on the shoulder roughly.

"Can someone please tell me what happened to my daughter? I know what Kensi does for a living is secretive but—please…Marty, tell me, is—how bad is it?" she croaked, tears escaping and trailing down her cheeks.

Deeks frowned, laying his hand lightly on her shoulder, trying to comfort her as he said the words that caused acid to rise in his throat:

"Julia I—I don't know…" he trailed off, trying not to flinch as her expression transformed from one of worry to one of anger in two seconds flat.

"What do mean you don't know? You were there weren't you?!" she half-yelled, clearly aggravated at being kept in the dark (apparently that was a familial trait) as she took a step toward him.

Deeks eyes widened as he tried to explain.

"No I—"

"No? What do you mean no, Marty? You're her partner aren't you? You're supposed to be with her, be her back-up. Why the hell weren't you there?!" she spat, waving her hands in his face as frustrated tears rolled down her cheek, the news Kensi told her of Deeks' quitting hours before escaping her memory.

Deeks was stunned into silence, his heart hammering in his chest as his own mother walked back into the room having fed the meter. In silence, she caught her son's eyes, sensing the rising tension and wordlessly sat down in one of the seats. Swallowing deeply and trying to repress the stinging in his eyes, the ex-liaison held Julia's gaze.

"I—I'm so sorry Julia, you're right, I—I should have been there, I should have had her back—" he broke off, his throat tightening with emotion as he shook his head, unable to hold her gaze any longer.

Julia's anger seemed to fade upon seeing his face so…broken. With a sigh, she lay her palm on his shoulder, speaking softly to him.

"I know Marty, I'm sorry too I—it's not your fault…" she murmured before pulling him into a tight hug that he reciprocated gratefully.

He could feel three pairs of eyes on him as he embraced his partner's mother. Hetty, that guy Monroe and Angela, all watching on, each feeling as if they were intruding on a particularly private moment as two people shared their grief with one another.

Just as they broke apart, alarms began ringing and a voice wafted from the corridor.

"Code Blue! Code Blue!"

With wide, desperate eyes, Deeks took off like a bat outta hell, out of the waiting room and down the corridor towards the noise. He didn't know how, but something was telling him that the commotion had to do with Kensi.

He skidded to a halt at room 103, gaping silently, his heart skipping a beat as he caught a glimpse of familiar chestnut hair through the ajar door as frantic medical staff gathered around a bed. But it was the doctor with the defibrillator that held his attention. With bated breath, he watched helplessly as the paddles were lowered to her chest.

"Clear!"

His partner's body jerked up from the mattress violently, but it was the steady, ringing tone that Deeks was transfixed on, the straight line that was shooting across the screen.

Kensi was flat-lining.

* * *

Sam Hanna waited with folded arms as his partner hung up the phone, his face unreadable.

"Well?" Sam asked, itching to get back into the room with Scott Lovejoy, to try and squeeze a drop of useful information out of him pertinent to not only Clarence's abduction but his friend's shooting.

The still had no word on Kensi…

"That was Nell," Callen informed him, "she and Eric identified Emily Zaras' bedtime buddy from the photo…" he trailed off with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"I'm on the edge of my seat G," his partner replied sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

"It was Declan O'Dowd, Clarence, Lovejoy and Valley's fellow marine," he finished, tilting his head before pushing the door of the interrogation room door open and storming in, not flinching as the door bounced off the wall with a loud smack.

Scott Lovejoy jumped, startled at the noise but quickly recovered as the two partners entered the room, halting on the opposite side of the table from where he sat.

Callen folded his arms across his chest, staring down unblinkingly at the uncomfortable marine.

"So let me get this straight Lovejoy, you're telling us that you wanted no part in this, that Valley strong-armed you into complying—"

"Yeah! He—he told me if I helped him kidnap Nick then he wouldn't kill him. He'd just use him for information and when they were done, they'd send him home. He said no faces would be seen so I—I had to believe that that was what he was going to do," the marine interjected, tapping the table with jittery fingers.

"Even though it was Clarence's testimony and your backing up of his story that got Valley discharged?" Callen asked with a tilt of his head.

"Yeah I mean, the whole time he—he was mad, sure, but not…homicidal, at least, not towards Nick…" he trailed off, his eyes staring at a spot on the wall.

"Who was he homicidal towards?" Sam asked, stepping over to stand beside his partner, his stance defensive, and his expression quietly fierce.

"His wife. It's her house he took over, he and his Saudi Arabian buddies. I—I was only in the place once to plant the DVD so I can't be sure but…I think he might have done something to her," he swallowed, shifting uneasily in the chair.

"Well, considering we found her body in the bathtub upstairs, I'd say that's a likely possibility," Callen murmured, sliding the crime-scene photos across the table for Lovejoy to look at.

His face turned ghostly pale as he stared down at the mutilated body of Emily Zaras, dozens of stab wounds marring her flesh as she lay sprawled in the bathtub, her emerald eyes wide and lifeless. He pushed the pictures away in disgust.

"You said something about planting a DVD?" Sam watched intently as Lovejoy's gaze rose to meet his.

"Yeah. I—it was the only thing I could think of to try and stop all this. I convinced one of the Saudis that it would be a good idea to give proof of life to the Feds and made the DVD myself. I then imbedded Valley's personnel file number and coordinates of the warehouse where Nick was being kept into the footage, hoping that some of the techies would find it. Considering you tracked us down, I'd say it worked…" he trailed off, sounding just a little bit pleased with his success.

"And you did all this to help us?" Callen's tone was incredulous to say the least.

"Yeah, and Nick. He's my best friend, man. His daughter is my god-daughter. I'd never want anything to happen to him…" his face was one of sincerity, as was his tone. The partners exchanged a glance.

"And what can you tell us about the information they wanted from Clarence?"

Lovejoy's expression turned pensive as he took a moment to respond.

"I wasn't always allowed in the room but—I heard talk about a mission called 'Operation Sinon.'"

"Operation Sinon," Sam stated, something clicking into place in the recesses of his mind.

"Yeah. I'm not privy to the details because I don't have high enough clearance, but there is something I do know about it," he paused, leaning forward in his chair.

The atmosphere in the room shifted with his words.

"And that is?" Callen prompted, not interested in any more stall tactics.

"My buddy Dec is on the team."

"Declan O'Dowd?"

"Yeah."

The partners exchanged another look, this one more ominous and knowing that any proceeding it.

"What?" Lovejoy breathed, visibly tense.

"Would it surprise you if we told you that O'Dowd and Valley's wife Emily were having an affair?" Callen asked, taking a seat opposite him.

A look of realization passed over the marine's face.

"That's what he's up to…"

"What?"

"Valley. I—I think he took Nick so he could track down O'Dowd…"

* * *

An explosion rattled her eardrums, causing the agent to duck for cover. Except, there was nothing to duck behind. The ever-enclosing darkness still surrounded her, encasing her, wrapping around her…

She gasped for breath. The pain had subsided somewhat, the sharp piercing in her chest, but the shortness of breath was still there, her heart hammering so fast she thought it might explode.

"Deeks? Deeks! What was that?" she called, wondering where her partner…_ex-partner_ had disappeared to. He was beside her just a moment ago…

_Or was it a moment? Was time passing quicker or slower here? Wherever here was…_

Suddenly, a beam of red light shot out from the darkness, followed by another beam and another and another, until she was surrounded with lines of red-lights, dozens of them crisscrossing over the other, looking awfully like…

"Lasers," Deeks confirmed her silent observation.

"This remind you of anything, Kens?" he asked softly, as like before, colour began to emerge from the gloom and form a scene, one she knew all too well.

"I stood there for so long," she whispered, watching as her past-self stood stock-still in one small space in the room, shoulders sagged with fatigue, beads of sweat on her brow, "and…when I saw you, I was…never so glad to see anyone in my entire life," she paused, watching as past-Deeks entered the room, it happening just as she remembered, them talking about triggers and bomb squads and trying not to panic.

"It was when I knew, one-hundred per cent that I was right putting my trust in you," she admitted, her eyes raking over her past-self as she meandered through the lasers, halting at the very last one, her partner raising his hands to take hers.

"Do you still trust me?" he whispered, his breath bouncing off her cheek as she felt him come to stand behind her just as past-Deeks pulled past-Kensi out the door, another boom rocking her to her core.

After it was over, and she saw herself tangled on top of the liaison, bright, big smile on her face, did she turn to Deeks and look him straight in the eye, her voice holding as much conviction as she could muster…

"Always."

* * *

Marty Deeks' heart panged in his chest and fluttering waves crashed in his stomach, making him nauseous as bile rose in his throat. Taking a deep breath, he splashed his face with water and looked up, staring at his pale face in the mirror. He looked like death warmed up, except, a chill was ravaging his body, an ice-cold piercing in the base of his spine. It made him shiver, yet he knew it was nothing to do with being cold.

Kensi had died.

For twenty agonizing seconds, his partner had been clinically dead until the doctor jump-started her heart. And all he could do was stand there, wide-eyed, holding his breath, his gaze, glistening with tears gluing to the only part of her he could see through the door, her small, ghostly-pale hand.

The memory was enough to bring a fresh bout of emotion heaving from his chest, right up to his stinging orbs. Swallowing deeply, he pushed down the whirlwind feelings, wiping at his eyes and shaking his head, splashing more water on his face before taking a deep breath and exiting the restroom. With his head held high, he walked down the corridor towards room 103 and where the doctor was standing, talking quietly to Julia.

"Your daughter went into cardiac arrest when we moved her out of surgery but she's stable now, Mrs Feldman," she was assuring her with a soft tone, "she isn't out of the woods yet, however. She sustained a 22. Calibre bullet to the chest at point blank range, it narrowly missed hitting any major arteries but it by no means any less serious. She will take a while to come around from the anaesthesia but as her immediate family, I can grant you entry to her room in a few minutes," she offered her a small smile before nodding and taking her leave.

Deeks hung back, waiting for Julia to speak. The elder woman turned to look at him, an indistinguishable expression on her face before she wordlessly began sinking to the floor. Gaping, Deeks leapt forward and caught her; another pair of hands coming out of nowhere and helping him get her to a nearby chair.

"I can't…I can't lose her again…" she was whispering over and over to herself, her head hung low as she sank down into the chair, her weary body crumpling like paper.

"Hey Julia, it's okay, she's going to be fine, she's going to be fine," he whispered back as he kneeled down in front of her, catching the eye of his mother as she took a seat next to the weeping woman, a steady hand resting on her shoulder.

"You—you have to go and make sure she's okay Marty…I—I can't see her…not yet," she croaked between tears, her darks eyes shining brightly, "please you—go check on my baby…"

Fear gripped Deeks' chest, like an ice-cold fist clamping around his heart. Suddenly, he was grappled by dread, it engulfing him at the thought of having to see his usually strong and kickass partner so…unlike herself. But with one look at her distressed mother, sitting with her head bent, her hand squeezing his mother's hand, he knew he couldn't deny her.

"Okay…I'll go tell Kensi you'll see her soon," he promised, rising from the floor and glancing to Angela.

At her reassuring nod, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way towards room 103, opening the door gently, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes landed on his partner's form, laid under the pristine, white sheets.

Biting his lip, he tip-toed closer to the bed, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at her.

"Hey…" he sighed, his throat tightening as his gaze landed on the various tubes surrounding her body, "what—what did I say about getting shot, huh?" he croaked, his smile watery, his eyes welling up.

"God Kens…" he trailed off as a tear escaped his eye and trailed down his cheek, "you sure know how to scare me, you know that?"

* * *

Nell Jones and Eric Beale sat in tense silence, the only sound throughout the small room being the tap-tapping of computer keys as two pairs of eyes glued to their respective screens, each eagle-eye scanning hours of footage from an old camera placed by the warehouse district.

"There's Lovejoy," Nell pointed out to her companion, reaching across him, her arm brushing against his.

Eric stilled, his eyes flickering to her for a moment before focusing on where she was pointing.

"Okay, let's see…" he entered the correct keys to begin the process.

"Okay, height – 6'3", weight – 170 pounds," he murmured, thanking the computer gods for kickass soft-ware.

"Nope, not him," Nell shook her head, striking a line through his name before going back to review the rest of the footage.

"The techs said that the trajectory of the…blood spatter," she visibly grimaced, pausing as a slight shiver ravaged her body, "suggested that Kensi was shot by someone between 5'5" and 5'7" in height. Lovejoy is 6'3" and the two Saudi Arabians, Farid and Hakim Agrajeeta are 6'1"and 5'11", all too tall…" she trailed off, frustration seeping into her tone.

Eric offered her what he hoped was a small, comforting smile as he began to fast-forward the footage, his eyes darting back and forth as he concentrated on the grainy surveillance.

"So, we're looking for someone else, someone that managed to avoid the—"

"Eric, stop!" Nell covered his hand with hers, pushing his finger down to pause the tape.

"There," she pointed to a dark shadow at the corner of the screen, "you see that?"

The tech-analyst stared at her, then at the screen before silently shaking his head.

With a roll of her eyes, she smacked his hand away from the mouse and rewound it, her eyes widening as the saw the figure again, pausing it and pointing again.

"There, see now?"

Eric squinted, azure gaze focusing on the small shadow that his companion was pointing to. Frowning in concentration, he ran the analysis, watching impatiently for the results.

"Five foot six in height, one hundred and twenty-seven pounds…" he murmured, confusion in his tone.

Nell's eyebrows rose.

"That's either one small man or—"

"A woman."

* * *

"It's a stupid plan," Nick Clarence gasped as he watched Greg Valley begin to grab various items and throw them into a large duffel bag.

"Are you kidding me?" he threw back his head, grinning manically, "it's genius! Not only do I get my revenge on you for getting me discharged but I also get O'Dowd for bangin' my wife and a boat-load of money from the Saudi Arabians for helping them get information on Operation Sinon. That my friend, is killing three birds with one stone…" he trailed off, winking at him.

Nick glared, his dark eyes gleaming with hatred.

"And where does Scott fit into all this?"

Valley chuckled, taking the seat opposite him, tapping his chin pensively.

"Well, he was just an easy mark. The guy backed up your story and helped sell me out so what better way to get back at him than to force him help a fellow Marine commit treason. It's poetic justice…" he smirked, taking a large knife from the duffel bag and beginning to toss it in the air.

Nick eyes flew up and down, watching as the knife spun mid-air before Valley caught the handle with ease and precision every time, his stare never wavering from the Master Sergeant.

"And how are you getting him to cooperate?" Clarence asked, tasting blood on his lips.

"I told him I'd kill you if he didn't," Valley shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

There was silence then, a moment of quiet between the two old colleagues.

"But you're gonna kill me anyway?"

"And that's why Scott never was the sharpest knife in the drawer," he quirked an eyebrow, staring at the blade in his hand, "huh, no pun intended…"

Suddenly, he stood up, brandishing the weapon in his ex-boss' face, a maddening gleam in his eye, a twisted grin marring his lips.

"But I can't take all the credit…most of this was my partner-in-crime's idea…" he half-whispered, dragging the tip of the blade down Clarence's cheek, a fresh trail of crimson in its take.

"Partner-in-crime?" he asked, twisting his hands behind his back, loosening the knot slightly, doing and saying anything to keep Valley talking, to keep him distracted.

"Oh yeah," he nodded, running the blade down his right cheek now, "she's one of a kind."

That caught the Sergeant's attention.

"She?" he frowned.

"Hey honey," a familiar voice suddenly sounded from behind him.

His heart skipped a beat as he twisted his head and was met by a pair of bright, olive eyes.

"Jessica?"

* * *

"You know, you're a pretty crappy Ghost of Deeks past," Kensi murmured as they walked down a very familiar drive-way, halting outside a garage.

"Oh yeah, why's that?" Deeks asked, turning his head to look in at his other self as her other self lifted her shirt, exposing a bruised torso.

"You're not even bringing these memories back chronologically," she said matter-of-factly, frowning as she watched the partners interact.

"No, _you're_ not bringing them back chronologically Fern, the mind is a mass of scrambled messages, it's not my fault if you're confused…" he rolled his eyes, sounding not unlike a whiny child.

"You were born confused," she smirked, trying to smother her discomfort as she was forced to re-live one of her least-favourite memories.

"Ooh, getting better with the come-backs I see. Not great, but better," he teased, seemingly finally becoming his true self, his initial anger fading as they journeyed together.

They both turned, silently they watched on…

"I'm your partner, what makes you think I'm going to let you do this by yourself?" Deeks was asking her as they stood barely a foot apart.

"Because you're my partner…and this is my mother…and you're the only person that I trust," Kensi replied, her eyes shining bright as she spoke with such conviction.

There was a slight pause in which the partners stared at one another.

"Okay…I'll keep her safe," he murmured finally, just as the Deeks standing beside her scuffed his shoe on the floor, hands in his pockets.

"I—I never really thanked you," she breathed, biting her lip as the ground began to dissolve from under their feet.

"You didn't have to," he responded, his voice holding the same conviction as hers did then.

She nodded, her eyes flickering through the droplets of colour, falling like thick paint around them. She recognized the bedroom immediately and the bodies in the bed as they slumbered peacefully, their limbs tangled together, one slightly more awake than the other.

"It was nice," she whispered, watching as her other self opened her eyes, lifting her head slightly and staring at Deeks as he slept beside her, his nose twitching incessantly, "being someone else for a while…"

"We wore Justin and Melissa well," Deeks agreed, smirking as the brunette in the bed smiled softly to herself and lay her head back down on the pillow, her dark eyes fluttering closed just as a pair of cerulean ones opened, beginning their own search of her, a small grin gracing a bearded face.

She nodded as the bed was replaced by a dining room, the slumbering partners becoming very awake ones, ones who were locked in an embrace, a kiss as two strangers looked on.

"I would say that kissing you was the only thing I could think of to try and hide what we were doing…" she trailed off, a smirk on her lips, "but I'd be lying…"

Deeks chuckled, shaking his head.

"Admit it, you liked it."

"I liked it," she whispered, as the partners broke apart.

"We could do this all day, you know," the ex-liaison commented as the colours began to disappear.

"Kiss?"

"Well, as nice as that sounds…" he laughed as she blushed, "no, I meant we could take a trip down memory lane. But, I guess this would be a good time to move on," he finished, nodding to his left.

"Move on? To where?" she asked, fear flooding her veins at the implication.

She wasn't ready to 'move on', go 'into the light', she wasn't ready to di—

"Relax Kens…not that kinda move on," he laid an attentive hand on her shoulder, "just onto the present. You look like you could use a rest," he gestured to a large bed that suddenly appeared, stepping over and pulling back the white sheets.

At those words, she felt an overwhelming tiredness engulf her, her shoulders sagging under the invisible weight, barely able to keep her eyes open a moment longer, her lids feeling as if anvils were attached to them.

"O-Okay," she yawned, not having the energy to even argue, sitting down on the bed and leaning back until her head hit the pillow.

Her partner stood over her, his eyes kind and caring as he pulled the sheet up to her waist, smiling down at her.

"I'm here if you need me Kens, I'm not going anywhere…I'm here for you," he whispered, clasping her hand in his and sitting down in a nearby chair.

"I know…" she whispered as her eyes slid closed, happy that the last thing she'd see for a while would be his face.

It was so much better than the barrel of Jessica Clarence's gun.

* * *

"Can you get that any clearer?" Nell asked, practically bouncing in her seat at the impending crack in the case they'd all been waiting for.

"She's definitely carrying," Eric replied as he fought to enhance the grainy image of the woman, his eyes trained on the weapon that was bulging under her jacket.

"Does it—does it look like she's walking weird, to you? Like she has a limp or—" Nell broke off suddenly, her eyes widening.

"Eric, hack into the hospital records!" she half-yelled, her brain reeling a mile a minute.

"Why?" he asked as he watched his partner already pick up the phone and dialling a number.

"Because," she hissed as she waited on Callen to answer his cell phone, "I know who shot Kensi!"

* * *

"Kens…Kensi…it's time to wake up," a voice called softly to her, squeezing her hand gently.

With a furrowed brow, she reluctantly opened her eyes and found herself still surrounded by darkness. Frowning, she looked to her left and saw her partner, or at least the dream-Deeks version of him, sitting there, looking at her expectantly.

"What's going on?" she asked, as she heard the voice again, his voice:

"Kens…please…wake up."

But it didn't come from the man sitting by her bed. Instead it came from all around her, soft and distant.

"He's talking to you," Deeks murmured, squeezing her hand again, "he wants you to wake up. He sounds like he has things to say," he finished, tilting his head at her.

Meanwhile, Marty Deeks, the real, broken, ex-liaison took a seat next to his partner's hospital bed, taking her hand in his, watching as her closed eyes flickered rapidly.

"Looks like you're too busy in dream-land…I wonder what the world's deadliest New Kid On The Block fan dreams of…" he mumbled almost to himself as his thumb ghosted over the back of her hand.

"Come on partner, aren't you gonna wake up and tell me to quit drawling so you can get some nice, interrupted sleep? Isn't my rambling bugging you?" he asked, smiling grimly at her lack of response.

In her dream, hallucination, crazy trip, whatever the hell it was, Kensi sat up in the bed, watching as dream-Deeks smirked, apparently amused by the words that were echoing throughout the room.

"I do have a drawl, don't I?" he asked with a quirk of his eyebrow before falling silent, listening intently as the resonating words continued.

"Your mom asked me to come and check on you…she's a mess Kens. She's already lost her daughter once, she can't lose you again. So please, come back to her, to the people that love you…to me," Deeks begged, staring desperately at her closed eyes, willing them to open any second now.

"You're afraid," dream-Deeks said suddenly, as Kensi mulled over what she'd just heard.

"Why—why would I be afraid?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Because despite how hard you try, you're in love with him, with me," he corrected, his brow furrowing, "you know what I mean. You love Marty Deeks, your partner, ex-partner, friend, whatever the hell he is to you now. And you'll continue to love him no matter how hard you try to ignore it. No matter how many meaningless dates you go on. No matter how many reasons you find not to love him, you find more to love him…"

Kensi's eyes narrowed.

"You would say that. You think you're irresistible," she tried to argue, wishing that the wonderful yet melancholy words that were echoing around her would stop just so she wouldn't have to look at his face, his all-knowing face.

"Hey, I'm a manifestation of your subconscious Blye; I'm just telling you what you already know. Out there though, he's the real Deeks and I think you should put him out of his misery and just wake up already," he shrugged, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head, listening to the words that continued to swirl around them.

"I—these last few days, weeks, hell, I don't know, probably even years, I've…come to care about you so much Kens…you're—you're so much more than just my partner, my friend and—and you gotta wake up because I don't know what I'd do if you—" Deeks broke off, his hand trembling as he took a deep breath, summoning the courage to admit what had been in his heart, in his soul, for a long time now.

"You're the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night. And I know that that sounds like some stupid pick up line but it—it's true. I…over time I…started to feel…more and…you're more than my partner Kensi Blye. You're my best friend, my confidante my—everything and I know that there are rules…but my heart won't listen to my head no matter how hard I try…" he trailed off, dragging a palm down his face, wiping the wetness from his eyes.

"You hold on pumpkin, it's going to be okay, you'll both find happiness," a familiar voice she hadn't heard in over fifteen years sounded from her left as Deeks' words washed over her.

A strong, comforting hand rested on her shoulder and she felt at peace in her father's presence, however imaginary it may be. It helped her find the courage in herself, she now ready to continue listening to the heart-felt confession of her partner, his words alighting her heart with wonder and joy and the good, exciting kind of fear.

Deeks' eyes glued to her sleeping form, murmuring the soft, important words, loud enough for only she to hear.

"Right now, I'm not your partner so I'm not breaking any rules. I'm just a very concerned friend with some very strong feelings and—just please don't kill me for this Kens…" he trailed off, his gaze lingering on her pale face and closed eyes, before leaning forward and capturing her lips with his.

Kensi gasped as she felt the pressure of his lips against hers. Soft and gentle and…right.

Her father's presence lingered to squeeze her shoulder one last time, the dream-Deeks at her bedside vanishing too, a small, knowing smile on his face as she lay back down against the pillows, the feather-light kiss warming her all over. She didn't feel tired anymore. She felt calm, rested and invigorated.

Deeks broke the one-sided kiss, stepping back, giving her hand one last squeeze.

"I just—I had to do that at least once. Not as Justin, not as Will, but as me. You mean more to me than I could ever tell you Kensi Blye, but I hope to try to one day…so don't you dare die, okay?"

With a nod of his head, he turned on the spot and walked out of the room to check on Julia, his footsteps barely making a sound. Just as the door closed with a snap, Kensi's eyes fluttered open…

* * *

Nick Clarence winced as his wife dug the barrel of her gun into the back of his neck, a deep indentation marring his skin.

"Why—why are you doing this, Jess?" he croaked as she let out a bitter laugh.

"Because Nick, all these years I've been married to you and you've been married to the job. I got sick of all your self-righteous bull shit, neglecting of your daughter, your search for the answers to your problems in the bottom of a bottle of Jack Daniels. You—you refused my help left and right, blamed me for everything that went wrong in our marriage and wanted to divorce me. Divorce, me! No, no frickin' way," she stormed around him, leaning down to glare right into his face.

"You really thought you could go to a divorce lawyer without me knowing? You really thought that you could gain custody of our daughter—"

"You haven't been well, Jessica," he spoke gently, knowing that if he raised his voice it would only irk her more.

"Oh I've been very well, Nicholas," she poked him in the nose, "thanks to your friend Greg here…" she trailed off, throwing a wink in Valley's direction.

"How—Scott said you'd been beaten up, how are you okay to—"

"Well, I had to make it look good, didn't I?" she smirked, pointed to her black eye and various abrasions, "managed to fool NCIS too. Those Saudis did a number on me sure but…it did keep me above suspicion so, it was worth it," she grinned wolfishly.

"Nobody ever suspects a victim, Nick," she continued, "nobody ever looks a little closer at the sobbing wife that just wants her husband back safe and sound…"

"You're sick," he spat, fury flowing through his veins, "you will never get Lily, you hear me? I—"

"I don't think you're in the position to make threats, Nick," she interjected as Valley gave a snort.

"What're you laughing at?" she asked, turning to glare at Valley.

"I—what?" he gaped, confused at her anger towards him.

"If it wasn't for me you'd still be snivelling into your beer. I'm the one that helped organize all of this, gave you contacts, helped you form a plan and you stand there and have the audacity to laugh at me?!" she snapped, gun shaking in her hand as she advanced on him.

Valley's eyes darted from Jessica to Nick, his face growing a little alarmed at her behaviour.

"No Jessica, I wasn't laughing at you, I was laughing at Nick o—" suddenly, the butt of the gun shot out and struck him in the face.

With a yelp, Valley stumbled back, clutching his now broken nose as it gushed blood into his cupped hands.

"Nobody laughs at my husband, you hear me?" she hissed, her eyes wild as she glared down at him.

Nick stared at the two of them, working frantically at the knots binding his hands. He had loosened them considerably and if he could just free his hands, he was confident he could wrestle the gun away from his wife and overpower them both.

"You're pathetic," Jessica was snarling down at Valley, "going through all of this just to get back on your cheating wife and her lover. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have that 'boat-load of money' from the Saudis, you wouldn't have the ammo to frame Scott and Nick with treason, all of this is down to me Valley, don't forget that," she finished, whirling back around to Nick.

"I don't know why I'm constantly surrounded by idiots," she heaved a deep sigh, raising her gun to aim it at his head, "oh well; at least now, I'll have one less to worry about. Goodbye, dear husband, I'll make sure Lily knows you died a traitor's death…" she squeezed the trigger just as Nick untied his hands, flinging himself at her, the momentum just enough to break the legs off the wooden chair as they tumbled to the floor.

With a wounded shoulder, he wrestled with his wife, wrenching the gun from her grasp, it going off with a loud bang.

Rapidly, the couple stilled, watching with wide-eyes as Greg Valley fell to the floor, a round, red hole in the middle of his forehead, a trail of blood leaking down between his eyebrows.

A tense moment passed before the couple began struggling once again, Nick letting out a cry of pain as Jessica pressed hard on his shoulder wound. Temporarily gaining the upper hand, Jessica used that split second to push him off her, jumping up from the floor. Snatching Valley's gun from his dead body, with shaking hands she shot Nick in the back.

With a groan, her husband stilled, a large pool of blood escaping and pooling around him. It wouldn't be long now…

Not wanting to wait around a second longer than necessary, Jessica left her dying husband and dead ex-partner-in-crime on the dusty floor of one of her unsold houses and bolted out the door at the speed of light.

She had unfinished business to attend to.

There was only one person left alive that knew what she had done.

Agent Kensi Blye.

* * *

"The wife?" Callen asked as Sam sped down the neighbourhood as fast as he could.

"Yeah, Jessica Clarence. It's her guys," Nell nodded frantically as she paced back and forth up in Ops, "we dug into her financials and found some irregularities. That led us to look into her job, she owns a Real Estate company up-town. It was failing, badly, up until two months ago when she went into business with a man named Amir Rendell, but when we pulled up his driver's licence photo—"

"It was Farid Agrajeeta," Eric finished, a sense of urgency in his tone.

"She was beaten when you and Kensi interviewed her, right Sam? You think someone could inflict those injuries on themselves?" Callen asked his partner as they pulled up at the coordinates Nell and Eric sent them; the last place pinged by the GPS in Jessica Clarence's phone.

"Well, most of them seemed superficial, bruising, cuts, that sorta thing, it wouldn't be too difficult for someone to do it to themselves, or get someone else to tactfully do it to them without causing any real damage," he said as climbed out of the car and made their way towards the derelict house.

Silently, they made their way up the yard, stepping on the over-grown lawn, towards the door that was ajar. Sharing a glance, Callen took lead, Sam following close behind.

"NCIS! Show yourselves!" Callen yelled as he pushed open the door, his eyes falling onto two bodies sprawled on the floor.

As Sam stepped around him, checking for any other people in the house, his partner inspected the two men, finding one dead – Valley and the other's pulse soft but certainly there.

"It's Clarence, he's two bullet wounds, one to the shoulder, one to the back, but he has a pulse. Eric, call an ambulance…"

"On its way, Callen," Eric confirmed as Sam stepped back into the room.

"Any sign of Mrs Clarence?" Callen asked him, already knowing the answer.

"Nope," Sam shook his head, "looks like Jessica split. Question is, where's she headed?"

* * *

Julia Feldman took the steaming coffee gratefully, a soft smile gracing her face.

"Thank you, Angela," she murmured, before blowing on the beverage.

"You're welcome," Angela Deeks smiled in return.

"No," Julia said suddenly, the cup half-way to her lips, "I mean it. Thank you, for everything. You—you really helped keep me together tonight. And after the way I spoke to Marty—"

Angela cut her off with a dismissive wave.

"You're worried out of your mind Julia, I can't imagine what these last few hours have been like for you…" she trailed off, her thoughts on Kensi.

"Marty has never been shot?" Julia asked, a frown creasing her eyebrows. She thought, given his profession that it would have happened at least once in all these years.

"Oh I'm sure he has been, I've seen the scars but…Marty doesn't like to worry me. I wouldn't be surprised if he asked his superiors to deliberately not call me unless he was on his death bed," she shook her head. She loved her son, she did, but sometimes he was infuriating.

It was at that moment that she saw the man in question off in the distance, talking with the woman she knew as Hetty and the other man she knew her son took an instant disliking to. She didn't know how, perhaps it was their body-language, but she knew something was going down.

"Hey Julia, you wanna go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat? It'll be a while yet before Kensi wakes up…" she murmured gently, silently hoping that the woman would say yes.

After taking a moment to mull it over, Julia nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I'm sure Marty will come and get me when she wakes," she nodded again, standing up and walking with Angela toward the elevators. The latter had to stop herself from glancing back around at her son and instead keep walking, eyes forward. Usually one to hate missing the excitement, she had a feeling she'd be glad to miss whatever the hell was going to go down within the next few minutes…

* * *

Jessica Clarence walked towards the nurses' station, a determination in her veins.

"May I help you?" the young nurse of about twenty-four asked with an air of innocence, of someone that hadn't yet seen the horror most endured during their careers.

"Yes, my sister was admitted here a few hours ago…Kensi Blye. Can you tell me what room number she's in?"

"Uh, let me see," she typed her name into the computer system and nodded, "yes ma'am, she's in room 103 on the ground floor. Just down the corridor and on the second left," she smiled a smile that Jessica returned whole-heartedly.

"Thanks so much," she beamed before continuing on her way, the fuel in her veins urging her onwards.

As she walked calmly down the corridor, she passed two brunette women waiting by the elevators. Acting as normally as possible, she nodded to them politely before she smirked, her eyes growing large as she spotted room 103.

Giving a quick glance around her, left and right, she saw that the place was practically empty so quietly, she reached out and turned the handle, pushing the door open as gently as possible.

With soft footsteps, she made her way into the room, spotting the bed. Quickly, she drew back the curtains surrounding it, revealing a body draped in white sheets, a brunette head barely visible from the top.

With shaking fingers, she picked up a pillow from the end of the bed and held it out in front of her, edging closer to the brunette head, lowering it to within an inch, holding her breath as she prepared to take yet another life.

Suddenly, she felt a pressure at the back of her head as a soft but demanding voice said in her ear, "drop it, Mrs Clarence."

With a growl of outrage, she did as she was told and dropped the pillow down onto the bed, only for the body underneath to sit up, a petite, bespectacled woman smirking up at her.

"Good work, Mr Deeks," Hetty said, a triumphant gleam in her eye as Monroe and two uniformed officers, stepped into the room, guns at the ready.

"You can tell Ms Blye's doctor that she can be moved back into her room now," she informed him before nodding to Jessica and taking her leave without a backwards glance.

"Come on," Deeks muttered, handing her over to the uniformed officers, "these nice men will read you your rights," he finished before nodding to Monroe and following Hetty out of the room, smirking as he heard the words follow him:

"Jessica Clarence, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of a Federal Agent, the kidnapping and attempted murder of United States' Marine Sergeant Nicholas Clarence and the murder of Gregory Valley…you have the right to remain silent…"

* * *

"Well, look who decided to stop being lazy and wake up," Marty Deeks smirked as his eyes landed on Kensi Blye, laying in the bed, eyes open, staring tiredly up at him.

"I had the weirdest dream," she muttered softly, her throat hoarse.

Quietly, Deeks pulled a chair up to her bedside and sat down, his eyes drinking in her form, not being able to control the beam spreading across his face, the relief at having her alive, awake and speaking to him warming him to the core.

"Yeah, they have you on the good stuff Kens, you'll be loopy for a while. Just—let me know if you start seeing a Walrus or a Yellow Submarine," he smiled.

"Is that…another Beatles reference?" she asked, an adorable look of confusion passing across her face.

"Yes Kens, that was a Beatles reference," he shook his head, a chuckle on his lips as he laid his hand on the bed, inches from hers.

A comfortable silence engulfed them then, both satisfied in just basking in each other's presence. In her foggy, drug-addled state-of-mind, Kensi couldn't help but remember her dream, the dream where Deeks admitted his love for her. Even now, she couldn't quite convince herself that that was all it was. His words…they felt so…_real_.

"You know," Deeks said suddenly, interrupting her inner thoughts, "I think I'll keep this particular memoir out of _'Freaks, Geeks and Deeks.'_"

She let out a tiny laugh at that, wincing at the discomfort in her chest. Morphine only went so far…

"Don't—don't make me laugh," she gave him a tight grin, knowing well that that was all she wanted right now, to laugh and smile and _kiss_ Deeks…and suddenly, she couldn't think of any decent reason why all of the above wouldn't be the best thing for her.

"Hey," she said a little dopily, taking his hand in hers and lifting it up, trying to pull him closer.

"What? What's up Kens? You need any—"

"Come closer," she interrupted, her eyes growing heavy, tiredness beginning to ensnare her again. She had to be quick…

"Uh, okay," he murmured, leaning forward a little.

"Closer…"she prompted, squeezing his hand.

He inclined even further.

"Closer…" she whispered as she stared up at him, his beautiful baby-blues swimming just an inch from her.

"Kens I—"

"Shhh…" she whispered, lifting her head up off the pillow that final inch and pressing her lips gently to his, in a feather-light kiss.

Deeks' heart did the rumba in his chest as Kensi smiled against his mouth, waiting a beat before gently pulling away and resting her head back down on the pillow.

His expression was comical, his eyes wide, his mouth agape as he stared down at her, speechless. She took that as a compliment.

"Uh you're—you're fond of cover-kisses, huh?" he laughed nervously, leaning back in the chair, not attempting to take his hand away from hers as his heart continued to beat erratically.

"That wasn't a cover kiss," she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed, sleep finally claiming her.

"I know," he smiled, warmth pooling in his chest as he squeezed her hand.

Now this? This was definitely going in _'Freaks, Geeks and Deeks.'_

Julia Feldman and Angela Deeks exchanged a glance, watching from ajar door as the blond man settled into the chair, apparently there for the night, an enigmatical grin on his face.

"Well," Angela said quietly as the two mothers shared a pleased smile at what they just witnessed, "looks like our kids finally decided to stop being idiots…"

* * *

Henrietta Lange nodded with satisfaction as she ended the call. Mr Hanna, Callen, Beale and Ms Jones were going to visit Ms Blye first thing in the morning and she still had a number of issues to deal with until then. It was time to let her agent get some rest while she retired for the night. She had sent Mr Monroe home over an hour ago, the extremely stressful first day weighing heavily on the green agent. She would de-brief him first thing tomorrow, but now, it was time to tie up some loose ends…

"You should have availed of the 'Kensi Blye Advanced Ninja Sneaking Training Course' Mr Deeks," she said suddenly, turning on the spot to see her ex-liaison grinning at her sheepishly.

"Yeah well, maybe I still can," he replied simply, hands behind his back.

"Was that Callen?" he asked, nodding to her phone.

Hetty looked to where he gestured, "yes, Mr Callen was just updating me on Mr and Mrs Clarence's status."

Deeks eyebrows rose expectantly.

"And…?" he prompted.

"And…" she smiled, "Mr Clarence is going to survive his injuries. As for Mrs Clarence, she admitted to hatching the plan with Farid Agrajeeta to use the disgruntled Greg Valley to gain information on an Operation Sinon for the Saudi Arabian terrorist sector in exchange for financial gain and the disposal of her husband…"

Deeks let out a breath.

"Cold," he murmured.

"Indeed," Hetty agreed, "she maintains that it was Valley who, in a temper, murdered his wife and brought Scott Lovejoy into the fold via blackmail. She said that he couldn't separate his emotions and that it was her intent to dispose of him too at the opportune moment as he was a liability."

Deeks nodded, mulling over the information.

"She give a clear motive?"

"Oh yes, Mr Deeks, two of the strongest, in fact. Greed…and love," she fixed him with an enigmatical expression, her eyes staring out at him over her glasses.

Deeks shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. It was like the woman was looking into his soul…

"She wanted the money and full custody of her daughter, which she feared she may not get due to her…anger issues if her husband were still alive to take care of Lily," she continued, still fixing him with a look, but it not as intense as before.

"Hakim Agrajeeta, the younger of the brothers, gave up some names in their organization that will be tracked down accordingly and we've informed the authorities of a potential breech in Operation Sinon and they're taking the proper precautions," she paused, "and with Ms Blye due to make a full recovery and already asleep for the night, I find that it is high time that we all go home and do the same…" she trailed off with a final nod.

Deeks stepped forward, his hands coming from behind his back, a manila folder in his grasp. Silently, he pushed it into her hands.

Hetty opened it, her eyes scanning it quickly before closing it with a soft snap. Slowly, her dark eyes rose to meet his light ones, a gentle smile on her face.

"Welcome back to NCIS...Agent Deeks."

**A/N: And yes, if there are any 'New Girl' fans out there, I'm aware I called the fucked up married couple Nick and Jess. It took me (shameful as it is to admit) a little while to realize when the lovely SuperDensi427 suggested the name Jessica why it felt weird. **

**And when I did realize what I'd done, I just kept picturing Zooey Deschanel and Jake Johnson so yeah, weird, weird, weird! But meh, it's too late now. Nick and Jess is what they're called but try and picture different people lol!**

**Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed! :D From here on, the Densi relationship will continue to grow steadily :)**

**Please Review!**

**~Cortexikid x**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"**I'm going to take a shower," she said, untangling herself from him with a mischievous smile.**

"**Don't forget to think about me," he murmured, arching his eyebrow, a smug smirk on his lips.**


	31. Basorexia Part I

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 31: Basorexia (Part I)**

**A/N: Hey guys :D Thanks again so much for your overwhelming response to the last chapter! I am over the moon! :D And now, without further ado, here's my delving head-first into the budding Densi romance. It's a slow build up, but I hope the pay-off is worth it ;) **

**DEDICATED TO: My awesome friend and fellow Densi aficionado Nidster502 :) Oh! And HAPPY THANKSGIVING to all my American readers :D Everyone else, Happy Thursday! XD**

**Disclaimer: NCIS: Los Angeles isn't mine…if it was, I'd have Deeks and Kensi make out every episode lol :P**

**WARNING: Spoilers for Season 4 episodes ahead!**

* * *

**WOTD: BASOREXIA; bas·or·ex·ia **_**noun**_**. An overwhelming desire to kiss.**

"Now that's what I call under-cover," Marty Deeks smirked as Kensi Blye rolled her eyes at his cheesy pun, draping her long legs with crisp bed-sheets.

"Well if it isn't Nurse Deeks," she leered, pushing away her tray and tilting her head at him as he slowly made his way over to her, a sheepish grin on his face.

"That's Doctor Deeks actually," he raised his eyebrows in dispute, "has a better ring to it."

"You and your alliteration," she shook her head, barely containing a smirk as she saw him fidget slightly, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

_He was nervous…_

It was funny really; she thought she'd be the one to be nervous. It had been just under three weeks since her shooting and she was due to check out of hospital today. He had visited her every day of those nineteen, spending hours and hours at her bedside, they chatting about everything and anything…except what they both ought to really speak about.

Their kiss. Or rather, kisses. Plural.

And yet, every time she saw him, nothing but warmth filled her, no anxiety, no nervousness, just a healthy dose of anticipation. It was refreshing really. After all these years of being terrified of her budding feelings, of denying herself even entertaining the idea of she and her partner engaging in something other than partner-like activities, she was finally free to roam those wonderful notions as often and as vividly as she liked…her dreams were getting downright ridiculous.

With a flush to her cheeks as she recalled a particularly vivid dream she had just a few hours ago, she cleared her throat and motioned for him to sit down. Deeks' eyes narrowed a little at her reddening face but merely shrugged it off and took a seat.

"So, you're busting out today…" he began, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair, getting comfortable.

"Yeah, 'bout time too," she nodded, shifting slightly in the bed, trying to mask her wince as a sharp pain shot through her chest.

Deeks frowned at her. He was worried that she was being discharged too early but his concerns fell on deaf ears. Kensi was determined to go home and neither he nor her doctors could deter her from that mission.

"Dammit!" she exclaimed suddenly. Glancing up at her, he watched as she attempted to lean over the side of the bed to pick up her fallen cell-phone.

"Hey, hey, I got it," he murmured, leaning down with ease and clasping it in his hand only to rise back up and find his face inches from hers.

Swallowing deeply, he silently stared into her dark eyes, cell phone slipping from his grasp onto the bed. Kensi's eyebrows rose at his agape expression, waiting for him to say something. As he continued to gaze wordlessly at her, she stared right back, biting her bottom lip to try and stop herself from leaning forward and closing the gap between them. She didn't know if her brain was strong enough to fight her heart anymore...

She would blame the copious amount of drugs in her system for her brazenness but knew that they had weaned her off them. No, it was those damn dreams, that first one in particular that struck fire in her veins, a fire that went ignored for a long time and that didn't want to be ignored any longer.

"Thanks," she forced herself to utter, to break the rising tension between them, "the sooner I get the hell outta this bed, the better," she heaved a deep breath, the dull ache in her chest ever present but a lot better than it had been the previous days.

Deeks waved off her thanks and sat back, looking a little relieved.

"So," she continued, not wanting him to be let off the hook that easily, "you wanna tell me what happened to my Jell-O or are you pleading the fifth?"

"No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime unless on a presentment or indictment of a grand jury," he smirked, she chuckled.

"What?" he asked as she shook her head at him.

"Nothing just—I've never heard you so…lawyerish…" she grinned at his puzzled expression.

"Lawyerish? Is that the technical term, Ally McBeal?"

"You're the one with the law-degree, wouldn't that make you Ally?"

Deeks rolled his eyes, a faux-sigh on his lips.

"Oh trust me, if my life was anything like Ally's I would have stayed a lawyer. Multiple hallucinations a day, awesome bar, hot rendezvous in unisex bathrooms…"

She let out a snort of laughter before her hand shot to her chest, a grimace crossing her features.

"Hey, you okay?" he leaned forward, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"I'm fine," she grit out, irritated at herself.

He merely nodded, knowing when to keep his mouth shut. Any other time he wouldn't adhere to that voice in his head that said 'don't push her' but today was different, the last two weeks were different, and not just because she got shot. He could feel it, the change between them. The definitive shift in their dynamic, a pulsing, not unlike a sonic vibration wafting between the two of them, an undercurrent of something new, something fresh and unexplored.

He had been nervous every day when he stepped into the hospital room. Had been terrified that he'd be met with the scene, the horrendous scene that haunted his dreams, where loud ringing tones screamed like sirens and straight, flat lines prevailed. But every day he was pleasantly surprised to be met by the same Kensi Blye he'd known all these years, if not a little paler than usual, smirking at him. There was something different about her, something that no bullet hole could warrant but more an invisible lifting on a wall, a wall that had been crumbling since they met. She seemed more…open with him. More expressive, not incredibly so (this still was Kensi Badass Blye, after all) but a definite change. Subtle, but most certainly there.

He had to wonder what caused this change, but he daren't dream of the possibilities. If he was wrong, he faced an unimaginable burden, a pain that could never be lifted, so he remained silent, acted his usual goofy self. But as each hour passed by, it got harder and harder to ignore. It was subtle really, a longer than necessary glance, a brushing of fingertips, the biting of a bottom lip between a pause in the conversation…

_She knew._

At least, he felt like she did. He heard many a medical professional say that people can hear everything around them whilst in a coma, so was it really out of the realm of possibility that his partner heard his bedside confession while unconscious?

He didn't think so. And that thought chilled him to the bone.

It was so…easy to tell her how he felt in the moment, emotionally charged, heightened to a painful degree. But now, now he was faced with the aftermath, the calm after the storm and he didn't know how to approach things. He didn't like feeling out of his depth, it seemed unnatural to him, especially where Kensi was concerned. He knew they had to talk about it, knew that it couldn't go ignored as it would just build and build until something had to give.

"You look constipated," she spat him out of his reverie with a smirk, her dark eyes gleaming in an almost daring manner, "something on your mind, Deeks?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, wondering just how much technology had prevailed in the mind-reading department and whether they were somehow affiliated with NCIS without his knowledge. But before he could respond, the door crept open, two laughing women stepping into the room.

"Mom?" Deeks and Kensi murmured in unison as Angela and Julia smiled at them.

"Well if it isn't the fruit of our loins," Angela remarked with a quirk of her eyebrow, "don't you look cosy…" she trailed off as Julia bit her lip, trying and failing to hide a grin.

Deeks grimaced, not able to look Kensi in the eye. He may not be one hundred per cent sure where his partner was concerned, but there was one thing for certain, his mom sure as hell knew about the shift in their relationship. The sparkle in her eye told all. She was planning Sunday dinners and engagement parties and mentally knitting baby sweaters…

_Oh shit…_

* * *

"Stop! S-Seriously—Alex!" Robin Hart laughed as Alex Johnson busied himself with closing the door behind them and shrouding them in darkness.

"Hey, you asked for this Hart, staring at me like that," he smirked a smirk she couldn't see and closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her waist as his lips captured hers. After a few moments, Robin broke away and rested her forehead on his shoulder.

"We can't keep doing this Al, we're gonna get caught," she sighed, "you know how much this job means to me—"

"I know, it means a lot to me too," he interrupted, sweeping a loose tendril of hair from off her face, "but you mean more."

A deeper sigh was his response.

"I never meant for this to happen, you know. I didn't wake up one morning and say, 'hey I think I'll try get into Lieutenant Hart's pants today,'" he said softly into her ear.

"Really? 'Cause I woke up the other day determined to get into your pants," she replied with a hint of her usual sass before pushing him as far away as she could in the small space.

"Well, what are you waiting for? My pants are right here."

He may not be able to see it, but he knew she was rolling her eyes.

"You're a jackass Lieutenant Johnson," she chuckled before falling silent for a moment, "I start my leave today..."

She may not be able to see him but she knew that he wasn't reacting positively.

"Rob—"

"Compassionate leave," she cut across him, her breathing hitched, "that's what they said. I—I wasn't sure how to take that really...I-I mean, compassionate leave is reserved for when a family member is incredibly sick or dying but—my dad he's...he's going to pull through so it's...it's unnecessary really..." she trailed off, her eyes closing as Alex stepped forward and pressed his palm to her cheek, his breath bouncing off her lips.

"Your father is the strongest man I've ever known. He taught me everything I know. If anyone can beat this, he can," he said, unshakeable conviction in his tone.

Robin sighed, a shiver raking her body as a solitary tear escaped her eye. Reaching up, Alex used his thumb to wipe it away.

"The ceremony in his honor will be just the kick in the pants he needs to realize that he's just too much of a BAMF to let the disease beat him," Alex continued, smiling as Robin let out a little laugh.

"BAMF? What are you, twelve?"

"You tell him Lieutenant Lazy-Ass says hey," he murmured as he enveloped the woman he loved in a strong hug.

"I thought he called you Junior Jackass?" she asked, her chuckle muffled against his shoulder.

"Yeah but I got a promotion since then," he reminded her, before stepping back and kissing her forehead.

"I'll see you when you get back," he murmured, stepping further back towards the door, "take care of yourself Robin," he finished before opening the door, glancing left to right and stepping out of the storage closet.

Robin sighed as she was once again immersed in darkness.

It was time to face the music.

It was time to go home...

* * *

The Office of Special Projects was abuzz with activity as one Henrietta Lange stepped through its doors, head held high with purpose. She nodded and smiled politely at the familiar faces, walking with intent to her desk, her fingers itching to make the phone call that she had been wanting to make all week and come hell or high water, that day was today...

"Henrietta," a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

With pursed lips, she murmured without a backwards glance, "Owen..."

Deputy Director Owen Granger stepped around her, blocking her path to her desk.

"When were you going to tell me?" he asked, his dark eyes meeting hers, his meaning irrefutable.

"While I appreciate your position as my superior Owen, I wasn't aware that every hiring of a new agent had to be personally run by you," she snipped, stepping easily around him and depositing files on her desk.

"Leon knows," he countered, following her.

"Director Vance is your superior and I happened to be chatting with him earlier. He supports the decision," she replied, taking a seat and raising her freshly brewed tea to her lips.

"Deeks is a cop," Granger pressed, remaining standing.

"Mr. Deeks was a cop," she corrected as she placed the cup back down on the saucer, "I think you'll find that once he comes back to work, he'll be an agent."

"Do you really think that's—"

"Was there any particular reason for your visit Owen or are you just here to question my judgement of character?" Hetty cut across him, not interested in prolonging the conversation.

"Actually, I am in town for a ceremony for an old friend," he responded, taking a seat, "but don't change the subject Henrietta. I heard all about Detective Deeks' breakdown recently and—"

"Agent."

"What?"

"It's Agent Deeks, not Detective, and I too am aware of his...difficult time lately. Which is why, in light of Ms Blye's shooting, I have given him time off to spend however he pleases. But, if it would put your mind at ease Deputy Director, I would gladly set up a meeting between you and Agent Deeks when he returns so you can personally vet him yourself..."

Nobody did passive aggressive quite like Hetty Lange.

"That's unnecessary," he smirked at her ballsy tone, "I've interacted with Detect—Agent Deeks in the past. He's a good cop. I don't see why he wouldn't be a good agent," he finished, standing up and nodding at the brunette.

"Always a pleasure Hetty."

"The pleasure's mine, Owen," she responded with a nod of her own, watching intently as he turned on his heel and walked away.

Once he was out of sight, she heaved a sigh, her hand reaching out to pick up the phone to place the call she'd wanted to place before she was interrupted.

Her fingers had barely clamped around the receiver when another familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

"So, what was that I heard about Deeks being an agent now?"

Hetty looked up and met Callen's curious eyes.

Seemed like both she and Mr. Deeks had some explaining to do...

* * *

"Home sweet home!" Julia Feldman exclaimed happily, opening the door and swinging it wide.

"Thanks mom but I'm perfectly capable of—"

"You are meant to take things as easy as possible Kensi, so no arguments," Julia cut across her daughter and stepped back to let her into the house.

Kensi shook her head and caught Deeks' eye who just shrugged and remained silent. There was no way he was taking sides here, he valued his life.

Slowly, the agent shuffled inside, one arm supporting her tense abdomen. It still hurt like a bitch but she was determined to remain as mobile as possible over the next few weeks, she wasn't going to be bed-ridden, she had enough of that in the damn hospital.

"I've your bed all set—"

"No," she shook her head, interrupting her mother once again.

Julia and Deeks exchanged a glance.

"Kens you have to—"

"I don't 'have' to do anything, Deeks," she replied as firmly as she could manage.

A tense silence met her words.

Really, Deeks should have expected this. She was Kensi Blye after all; the same Kensi Blye that abhorred help of any kind for fear it would make her appear weak.

"Kens can...can you show me where the bathroom is?" he said suddenly, not looking at Julia and instead focussing on the younger brunette.

"What? You've been here loads of times Deeks, you know where the—"

"You know, it's been so long since I was here, I forget. Show me again," he pressed, something stressed in his tone.

Kensi caught on quickly.

"Uh sure," she nodded, offering her mom a wry smile, "we'll be right back..."

Gently, she stepped down the corridor, her ex-partner leading the way (totally ruining the illusion of not knowing where he was going), his shoulders a little tense. Once they reached the bathroom, Deeks surprised her by turning around and softly taking her hand in his, leading her slowly into the bathroom, much like she had that night that seemed like an eternity ago. Wordlessly, she asked him just what the hell did he think he was doing but he merely shook his head, turning them on the spot and tenderly helping her lower herself to sit on the toilet seat. Once satisfied that she was comfortable, he turned and closed the door behind them with a quiet snap. Suddenly, Kensi was overwhelmed by déjà vu, that night replaying in her head like a film reel before her eyes. The night where he had sat, so sad, so broken as she cleaned his wounds. It broke her heart to see him like that. Her usually chipper partner so dejected. So unsure of himself. She felt she had to do something to help him, anything, even something as simple as helping him clean up and listening. It made her wonder just where he was going with this now...

"Kensi..." he turned back around to meet her gaze, lowering himself onto his hunches to be at her eye-level.

"Deeks," she acknowledged, her dark eyes trained on his.

"You got shot," he started, swallowing deeply, pausing for a moment. Those words reverberated in the small bathroom, the sound still piercing, still haunting him.

Silently, she nodded, waiting for him to continue, watching intently as a shadow past over his face, his eyes shifting to the floor.

"And...and for a while there, we all thought that you—" he broke off, shaking his head as if forcing himself to say the next words, "we all thought that you were going to die. In fact, you did...you flat-lined for twenty seconds and I—I was the only one that saw it happen. That—that scared the crap outta me Kens, even after we were told you were stable it was still so...terrifying, so I can only imagine how your mom felt..." he trailed off, still unable to look her in the eye.

Kensi frowned, watching as her ex-partner tried to compose himself. The last few weeks when he'd come to visit he'd been so upbeat, so much like his usual self. It was only now she was beginning to see how much her shooting had affected him. A strong wave of guilt washed over her.

Slowly, she reached out with the hand that wasn't firmly around her abdomen and touched his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

Gradually, he lifted his head, his eyes raising to meet hers.

It was as if all of the oxygen had evaporated from the room. All Kensi could think about was how nice it felt when his lips was on hers and how much she wanted it to happen again. But it was neither the time nor the place.

"I'm sorry I scared you," she opted to say instead of leaning forward and capturing his lips with hers.

He nodded, raising his hand to clasp hers as it sat on his shoulder.

"You're going to be fine, that's the main thing. But please, Kens, you gotta let your mom help you," he pleaded, his eyes shining brightly.

She bit her lip, her thoughts now with her mother that was probably boring a hole into her kitchen floor with worry.

"Okay," she sighed, knowing that it was the right thing to do, for everybody.

"Thank you," he replied, squeezing her hand in his one more time before standing up.

"So, I'll be back in a couple of hours, and you never know, I may stop by and pick up some Oreos. I hear _Pretty In Pink_ is even more fun to watch with two women either side of you..."

She rolled her eyes at him as she took his hand and stood up slowly.

"Didn't realize you were a John Hughes fan," she smirked, still gripping his hand, biting her lip as she realized just how close they were standing.

"Are you kidding me? I'm a Molly Ringwald fan," he arched an eyebrow at her, his breathing a little quicker than usual.

"We've moved onto _Some Kind Of Wonderful_, so sorry, no Molly," she tilted her head at him.

"Huh, I'll deal. Two best friends fall in love...who doesn't like that?" he asked, his eyes gluing to hers.

Kensi didn't quite know what to say to that. Again it felt as if the oxygen had abandoned her lungs. She had to keep replaying the mantra in her head, _not the time or place, not yet, not yet..._

"Get outta here, I'm going to take a shower," she said, untangling herself from him with a mischievous if not a little forced smile.

"Don't forget to think about me," he murmured, arching his eyebrow, a smug smirk on his lips as he turned towards the door.

Suddenly, something occurred to Kensi, urging her to ask:

"Where do you keep disappearing to anyway?"

"Clown-college. Have to do something now that I'm unemployed."

Kensi's eyes narrowed in suspicion. That answer came far too easily, joke or not. Fine, if he didn't want to tell her then she didn't want to know...

"I always said you were a Bozo," she quipped, "now you can prove me right."

He smirked at her, apparently impressed by her comeback.

Kensi: 1, Deeks: 0.

* * *

Soft shimmers of moonlight basked a large mahogany desk as a long arm reached across to turn on the reading lamp that sat in the corner. Tiredly, a sigh was heaved as a jacket was discarded haphazardly on the back of a chair, the sleeves of a crisp, white shirt being rolled up a long arm. With aching bones, legs backed into the bed, a tall, stocky frame collapsing down onto it, another tired sigh omitting from tightly clenched lips.

It had been one hell of a day. All he wanted to do was get a few hours sleep, just close his eyes and not think about work, life, anything for a little while so—

The shrill ringing of his cell phone interrupted his inner musings. With a shake of his head, his resided himself to the fact that this was his life now. While not much different to back home work-wise, the longer hours was something he had yet to get used to.

With a frown, he glanced down at his cell phone and the oh-so-familiar number. Slowly, a small smile graced his face as he raised the phone to his ear and pressed the button.

"Hetty Lange, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Good evening Mr. Getz, or should I say night, where you are. How is Europe treating you?"

* * *

"Ah! Uncle! Uncle!" Marty Deeks cried as his arm was twisted roughly behind his back, causing his entire body to fold in on itself, his knees crashing down onto the mat.

He could feel the chuckle radiating from his opponent before he was released, collapsing down onto his stomach, his cheek resting on the floor. After a few deep breaths, he psyched himself up to try again, nodding at the man standing off to the side and standing up, his hands already raised in a defensive stance.

"Really? Again? How many times do I gotta kick your ass before you stay down, Deeks?" Zack Monroe asked with a smirk.

"You're not kicking my ass Rookie, let's get that straight first. Second, I've never done any of this specialist crap before which is why I need the training, so come on, again," he motioned to him to step closer.

"I may be a rookie, but I'm still kicking your ass," Monroe grumbled as his fist flew out at Deeks who dodged it at the last second, using a manoeuvre that Monroe showed him a few days ago.

"Nice dodge," the younger man complimented, "so how many of these things do you gotta do before you're fully instated as an Agent?"

Deeks shrugged, getting a good swing at him, "not sure, I've to clock so many hours in a few different training classes. I've done some already since joining NCIS as a liaison but Agent training is a whole different ball game," he murmured as he again dodged a move from Monroe.

He was getting better at this. Over the last few weeks, he and Monroe had been training late at night in the OSP gym, after nearly everyone had gone home. While they hadn't had the best first meeting, Monroe and Deeks had gotten to talking one night after visiting Kensi in the hospital. Deeks apologized for insinuating it was Monroe's fault that his partner was shot and soon they moved on to talking about other things. He was a good kid and he and Deeks had a lot in common. They were both born in LA, both went to Reseda High School (Monroe four years behind) and were avid surfers.

The Junior Agent had been helping out on cases while Kensi was on medical leave and sparring with the ex-detective at night and Deeks in turn was helping him negate the mind-field that was Callen and Sam. So far, it was going well.

"Kensi get home okay?" he asked as he evaded Deeks' attack.

"Yeah, she's doing good," he replied, a small smile breaking out on his face.

"That's great...so, let me ask you something..."

The upcoming-Agent took Monroe by surprise by feinting to the left, swerving right and gripping him tightly in a head lock.

"Sure Monroe, what's on your mind?" he asked as he squeezed his neck tightly.

"Wh—" Monroe choked, trying to get away from Deeks, shifting his weight against him.

"Nice form, Mr. Deeks," a voice called suddenly, distracting the blond, his grip slackening slightly.

Monroe took the opportunity to get out of the headlock and whirled around to bend back both Deeks' arms to near breaking point.

"Come on Mr. Deeks, show some of that famous tenacity of yours and break free," Hetty urged, stepping further into the gym and folding her arms, looking at the two men sparring with interest.

Deeks struggled. He was clearly stronger of the two, but Monroe was more experienced in...what was it called again? Bazooka? Bono?

"Bok Fu is difficult to master, Mr. Deeks, but the trick is to clear one's mind of all outside distractions..." Hetty murmured, walking around them.

"You mean like petite, brunette, ninja-women with a habit of sneaking up on people at night?" Deeks asked somewhat frustrated as he tried and failed to get Monroe off him.

Hetty's eagle-eyed gaze glued to him before she stepped over to them. Monroe and Deeks stared silently at her, still locked in the position as she murmured:

"You were in the middle of asking Mr. Deeks a question, Mr. Monroe?"

"Uh..." the agent murmured, looking from his boss to Deeks to Hetty again, "yeah, I—was just wondering why Deeks asked me to train with him? Instead of asking someone more experienced like Sam or Cal—ah!" he exclaimed loudly as Hetty suddenly struck, her foot colliding with his calf roughly, making him release Deeks and crumble to the floor.

Deeks didn't have a split second to react before Hetty struck again, grabbing his arm and twisting it so tightly that he too descended to the mat, hissing in pain.

"Like I said gentlemen, drown out any distractions, that includes chit-chat," she smirked as she stared down at the two men at her feet.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Agent Deeks at his finest," another voice called from above them before Sam and Callen appeared in their eye-line, smirking down at them, Sam's cell phone out, already taking pictures.

"How—how did you guys—"

"You really thought you could sign a document and begin training to be an agent without us finding out about it, Deeks?" Callen asked, folding his arms and grinning as his partner continued to take pictures.

"I—"

"Smile for the camera, Deeks," Sam smirked, eyebrows raised as he clicked the button a few more times.

"That'll do gentlemen, I will have no more hazing, not after what happened last time," Hetty murmured, stepping away from them.

"What—what happened last time?" Deeks asked, his voice cracking as thousands of possibilities began running through his mind.

"Oh, you'll see," Callen replied cryptically, his eyebrow arched.

"Yeah so hurry up and come back to work already," Sam interjected, "I mean, no offense Monroe but you're just not as fun to torture as Deeks here, even if you can pick decent food trucks," he nodded pointedly to his former colleague who had sat up on the floor and stared at him, "and if you're up for some real training, how about you come in at normal hours and I'll show you how it's done..." he laughed before taking one last picture and turning on his heel to follow his partner out.

After they'd gone, Deeks turned to Monroe who was still sitting on the floor beside him.

"You asked why I wanted you to train me and not Sam or Callen? Well, that's why..."

* * *

_You are cordially invited to the ceremony in honor of Captain Patrick Hart to celebrate his years of service to the United States Navy._

Hard, dark eyes stared coldly down at the invitation, jaw aching as it clenched tightly, trying to reign in the anger that was boiling in his veins. That old bastard! After everything he did, he was getting a damn 'ceremony in his honor'?

With a clenched fist, former Lieutenant Oliver Bradley dug a sharp blade into the invitation, pinning it down onto the desk, the knife piercing the Captain's name.

Oh he'd be attending the ceremony all right; he wouldn't miss it for the world.

Finally, after all these years, he had the opportunity to give his old Captain everything he deserved. A bullet to the skull...

* * *

"When the rain is blowing in your face, and the whole world is on your case, I could offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love…" Kensi Blye sang softly along to the radio as she ran her fingers through the soapy water, swaying a little as she stood at the sink.

"Never would have pegged you for an Adele fan," a familiar voice came from behind her.

"And I never would have pegged you as stupid enough to break into my house again after I nearly make you a eunuch with a well-aimed kick," she replied without missing a beat, not bothering to turn to face him, instead continuing her humming and submerging another plate in the water.

"Your mom let me in, she said something about heading out for some ice-cream…" she knew by his voice that he had shrugged and stepped closer, "you know Kens…here in the 21st century, such things as dish-washers exist so you don't have to—"

"I was going stir crazy lying in bed, I had to do something…" she murmured, her jaw tightening in frustration.

"But resorting to cleaning? Ms Border-Line-Hoarder? You must have been pretty damn bored," he stated rather than asked, taking the last step towards her and taking up a towel, drying up the wet cutlery she set on the draining board and getting to work.

"_I know you haven't made your mind up yet, but I will never do you wrong, I've known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in my mind where you belong…"_

Deeks stilled his circular motions of the plate, the song's lyrics resonating in his ears. Could the universe be that transparent? He knew he was avoiding it, had been avoiding it since it happened but...the urge he felt whenever he was in Kensi's presence was getting ridiculous now. All he wanted to do, for the last two weeks, the last few months, hell years, who was he kidding...was take her in his arms and kiss her until they couldn't breathe. And now, Adele of all people was egging him on. Sometimes, life showed you a sign and other times, it clubbed you over the head with one.

"So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room or are we just going to ignore it?"

_Really? That's what you're going with? Practically tackling her with a defensive question the day she comes home from hospital? Great start Deeks... _

"Well, that all depends. What elephant are we talking about?"

_Okay, not the response I was expecting. Think Deeks, think!_

"I think you know, Kens," he bit his lip, eyes focused on drying the plate. He knew he was being deliberately vague but apparently, when it came to his feelings for Kensi, he was the teeniest bit of a coward.

"Oh really? So tell me, how exactly would I know you're now apparently an Agent if you didn't tell me?"

_Oh shit. He was so busted..._

"Uh...how did you—"

"I got a very interesting text message from Sam about an hour ago, with a picture attached. Seems Hetty kicked your ass when you were doing your 'training,'" she replied, her body tense.

Deeks didn't like the look of discomfort on her face. He had a feeling that it wasn't just only to do with the subject of the conversation.

"Hey Kens, why don't we sit down and—"

"I'm fine," she grit, her mouth a thin line. Deeks really had to stop staring at her lips.

"Kens please, remember our conversation from earlier? Please, if not for you, or me, then come sit down for your mom's sake...so she doesn't worry," he knew it was a low blow but he was getting desperate.

Thankfully, it appeared to work. After one more stubborn moment, Kensi's shoulders sagged and she heaved a sigh, snatching the cloth from his grasp to dry her hands. Slowly, she turned and made her way into the sitting room, not looking at him as he followed. Gently, she lowered herself to the couch and didn't motion for him to sit. That was not a good sign. He remained standing.

"Uh, okay then," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck, wondering where he should start.

"Listen I—you were the first person I was going to tell as soon as it was official, please know that. But, the ink is barely dry on my contract and—with everything that's happened lately I—I just wanted to wait until things calmed down to drop the 'oh by the way I'm your partner again and am an NCIS Agent now' bombshell..." he trailed off, the excuse now sounding pathetic to his ears.

If the expression on Kensi's face was any indication, she thought so too.

"And Sam and Callen found out by accident, it really was just between me and Hetty and I guess Director Vance but I mean it's not like I know the guy and—I'm getting off track," he waved his hands distractedly before continuing, "anyway, I wanted to try and get some training done, maybe pass a few of those classes before getting reinstated. And—I kinda wanted to wait for you to be back to work too..." he trailed off, the heat rising to his cheeks, willing the red flush that he knew was creeping up his neck, away.

Kensi merely stared silently at him, her expression hard to read. She looked like she desperately wanted to fold her arms but knew it'd cause nothing but pain and discomfort so she refrained.

"You don't need me to return to work, Deeks," she muttered, not looking him in the eye, instead picking up the remote and turning on the TV.

"Hey," he began, bravely stepping forward and sitting down on the couch beside her, but not too close, "I go back to work when you go back to work. What would be the point of going in now? I wouldn't have you to keep me in line or to criticise my clothes or—"

"Sam and Callen could do with the back up," she interjected, her eyes on the TV as she continued to flick through the channels.

"Monroe is actually doing well," Deeks admitted, knowing that it would have grieved him to say so even only three weeks ago. "For a rookie," he couldn't help but adding as an afterthought.

"A rookie who's helping you train," she smirked, a little of the bantering Kensi appearing.

Deeks saw this as a good sign.

"A rookie who got his ass kicked by a 4'9" woman..." he reminded her.

"And wasn't your ass kicked by that same woman?" Kensi asked, turning to look at him for the first time since their conversation began.

Oh yeah, this was definitely a good sign.

"Touché," he smirked. "See Kens? That's how you use it properly..."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. They fell into a silence, one a little more comfortable than before.

"So..." she began after a moment, "Agent Deeks huh? Well, there goes your alliteration…"

He laughed, nodding.

"Yeah, guess so..." he trailed off, leaning back into the couch, his tired muscles relaxing. He wouldn't admit it, but he was still smarting a bit from where Hetty ambushed him. He eyes felt heavy, like anvils were attached to them. It had been one hell of a long day, sleep would come incredibly easy to him tonight...

"So, I guess this means we're partners again," Kensi said suddenly, picking at her sweatpants an indistinguishable expression on her face.

Deeks frowned, hearing the downward infliction in her tone. Was that..._disappointment_ he heard?

"Uh, well, depends on how you look at it really. Neither of us are technically in work right now, we're both on leave until further notice so—"

"So I wouldn't be breaking any rules if I kissed you right now?"

**A/N: Bad cliff-hanger is bad! Sorry guys! I had to leave it there! My muse just would not let me continue, it's incredibly evil. I know it's not as long as my previous chapters but I hope you guys liked it anyway. I apologize. But, on the bright side, I do plan on updating VERY soon. Like the end of the weekend/start of next week soon seen as I've got a very small window of time before college work begins to smother me again. But it is literally only four-six days so I will try to update ASAP. In the meantime, here's a teaser to tide you over:**

_**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**_

_**Deeks' heart stopped. It actually stopped beating. It had to have done because he just died from shock. Never, did he ever, in the entire nearly four years he was Kensi Blye's partner did he ever believe those words would fall from her lips. Not outside his dreams anyway...**_

"_**I—what?" he gaped, struggling to wrap his mind around what she just said.**_

"_**You heard me Deeks," she murmured softly, turning slowly towards him, her eyes staring intently into his before she leaned forward ever so slightly, her lips an inch from his...**_

**Please Review**

**~Cortexikid**


	32. Conniption Part II

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance **

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 32: Conniption (Part II)**

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews guys, you're the best readers/reviewers ever :D**

**DEDICATED TO: The wonderful ImpactedJudgement :D**

**Disclaimer: NCIS: LA isn't mine. I will ask Santa for it for Christmas but...I seriously doubt I'll find the rights to it in my stocking this year or any year for that matter. Le sigh. But it would be nice to find Deeks in my stocking lol :P**

* * *

**WOTD: CONNIPTION; con·nip·tion _noun_. A fit of rage or hysterics.**

"_So I wouldn't be breaking any rules if I kissed you right now?"_

Deeks' heart stopped. It actually stopped beating. It had to have done because he just died from shock. Never, did he ever, in the entire nearly four years he was Kensi Blye's partner believe those words would fall from her lips. Not outside his dreams anyway...

"I—what?" he gaped, struggling to wrap his mind around what she just said.

"You heard me Deeks," she murmured softly, turning slowly towards him, her eyes staring intently into his before she leaned forward ever so slightly, her lips an inch from his...

The blond's heart kick-started, thumping wildly in his chest as she stared at him, blinking as if waiting for him to stop her. When he didn't, her lips curled upward slightly as she took a deep breath and gently leaned in to close that last inch...

"Hey! Look who I found!" a voice called loudly from the doorway. The pair jumped in surprise, Kensi tilting back from Deeks quickly, hissing as her skin pulled roughly from under the bandage.

"Crap!" she gasped, her hand flying to her abdomen, a wince on her face.

"Whoa, hey, you okay?" Deeks asked, his eyes wide with alarm as Julia and Angela stepped through the door.

"I'm fine," she replied, her eyes rising to the two women, "nice to see you again, Angela," she said with a slightly pained smile.

"It's good to see you too honey," she smiled in return, rooting around in her large handbag and pulling out a bundle and handing it to her.

"I hear you're a fan of Oreos," she murmured, looking from Kensi to her son (who couldn't keep the 'what the hell, mom?!' expression off his face) and back again.

"Uh, yeah I am, thank you," Kensi replied a little unsurely, reaching out and taking the cookies.

"So, not interrupting anything are we? I was thinking that Marty and Angela could stay for dinner Kens, what do you think? Are you up to it?" Julia asked, already traipsing into the kitchen and unloading the shopping bags.

Kensi gaped at her mother through the open door, avoiding eye contact with her once ex-partner-now-sorta-new-partner. Slowly, she shifted her weight on the couch to a more comfortable position which just happened to be a little further away from Deeks and cleared her throat.

"Uh yeah sure that's—"

"I mean, I know it's a little late but, you're finally cleared to eat solid food and that's something we should celebrate, right? Angie, come in and sit down, I'll get you a glass of wine," Julia rambled as she began pulling out pots and pans from the kitchen cabinets.

Angela exchanged another glance with her son, her eyebrows raised in her signature 'okie dokie then' expression before turning on her heel and replying, "wine sounds good to me Jules."

Their two children sat motionless on the couch, watching as their mothers chatted animatedly.

"Jules?" Kensi mumbled.

"Angie?" Deeks echoed.

* * *

_Darkness descended like a fog, a gloom enclosing, like a wall folding in on him, trapping him inside with nowhere to go. Silently, he gaped, unable to move any part of his body, his eyes frozen open in shock, he staring unblinkingly at his brother as he raised the gun to his temple._

"_No! No, don't!" he wanted to scream, but all that came out was a squeak, no louder than a mouse._

_A shot rang out, piercing the still night like the bullet pierced Kevin's flesh. His body crumpled like paper in the wind, collapsing onto the floor with a loud thud, blood pooling around his lifeless body._

_Oliver gasped, still unable to move, speak, do or say anything, his eyes glued to his brother, his brother that was once so alight with energy, with joy, now dark, dimmed with cold and death._

_He was gone..._

With a jolt, Oliver Bradley awoke, his breathing rapid, his heart thumping in his ears. With a wince, he stretched his limbs, his bones cracking loudly in the otherwise quiet room.

It was the fifth time this week he'd snapped awake, having fallen asleep at his desk, sweating profusely and breathing heavily as if he'd just run a marathon. It was always the same dream, a memory really, of what Kevin had done five years ago. Ever since his ol' Navy buddy received that invitation in the mail, it was all he could think about. That and his plan. They consumed him like a virus that ate all his other thoughts up, his other basic needs like food and proper sleep being shoved to the back burner.

It wouldn't be long now. In less than 24 hours, he would get his revenge on the man that caused his brother's death...Captain Patrick Hart.

* * *

"You're kidding."

"I'm not."

"Seriously?"

"According to Callen and Sam, yeah," Eric Beale nodded as Nell Jones continued to gape at him.

"Deeks...an agent?" she asked, looking for clarification that she had indeed heard her partner correctly.

"Exactamundo," he clicked his fingers, spinning in his chair to face his computer.

"You are not the Fonz, Eric," the intelligence-analyst dead-panned before murmuring, "wow that's great!"

While momentarily disheartened that his partner was not impressed by his Henry Winkler impression, the tech-analyst found that he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.

"I know, it'll be great to have him and Kensi back at work," he agreed, chewing on the top of a pen, his face growing pensive as he thought about his friends.

"It'll be kinda weird though," Nell said suddenly, catching his attention.

He turned in his chair to face her.

"Why?"

The red-head shrugged, her nose wrinkling a little. Eric fought the little grin that wanted to creep out onto his face as he saw that.

"I don't know...I mean, Deeks has been a cop for what? Ten years? I just...it'll be weird to have him as an agent. Great, but different, I guess. I wonder what training he's—"

"Apparently Callen and Sam caught him getting his ass kicked by Hetty when doing Bok Fu," Eric cut across her, "there are pictures and everything."

"And why haven't I seen these pictures?"

"Because Hetty made Sam delete them..." Eric trailed off, turning back to his computer.

Nell very nearly pouted.

"But," her partner's eyebrow arched, "not before I managed to upload some to the server..." and with a click of a button, dozens of pictures popped up on his computer screen of Deeks (and some of Monroe) lying/sitting on the mat in the gym, looking a little...worse for wear.

Nell chuckled, shaking her head. Some things were worth staying in work a little late for.

"No matter who the opponent is, my money is always on Hetty."

Eric nodded, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Mine too."

* * *

Robin Hart took a deep breath as she halted outside her father's study. It had been a long day. A three hour drive home, then being bombarded by friends and family members, not getting a moment's peace to herself the entire time. Now, all was quiet, most of her family, her mom, her elder sister and two nephews had retired to bed, her aunt and uncle in the guest house. It was just she and her father left still up, she in the sitting room, he in his study.

She'd barely since an inch of him all day. He was either busy talking with Uncle Joe or locked up in his study, no doubt going over his speech for tomorrow. What she did see of him, he looked better than she could have hoped, better than she expected. But that was her father. He would never let a thing like a brain tumor alter his usually pristine image – not when he had young minds to mold and impress.

Shaking her head to break through her rambling thoughts, she lifted her hand to knock softly on the door, knowing from experience that it was never good to just barge in – he hated when she did that. And she really didn't want to aggravate him, today of all days.

"Come in," his voice called after a moment.

Taking one last deep breath to steady her nerves, Robin turned the handle and opened the door, standing on the threshold.

"You're letting the heat out," he murmured distractedly, his eyes trained down on pieces of paper.

"Uh yeah, sorry," she stepped in, closing the door behind her with a quiet snap.

"I thought you'd gone to bed," he commented, still not looking at her.

"No I—I wanted to talk to you...before I turned in," she forced herself to say, her voice a little louder, more defined than before.

That caught his attention. Slowly, his dark eyes rose to try and meet her identical ones, but she was staring at the floor.

"Well, out with it then," he said, eyebrows arched as he waited.

A sliver of ice-cold fear dripped down her spine. Suddenly, she was frozen, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth, her throat dry. No, no! She couldn't chicken out now, not after travelling all this way, not after all the talks she had with herself over the last few months. It was now or never. She had to do it now, before it was too late. She had to know if he supported her or not...

"Robin, what is it?" he asked, his eyes staring intently at his daughter who stood before him, motionless. His voice was a little softer this time, more inviting. Not incredibly so, but just enough for her to notice.

She raised her gaze to meet his, finding it not as hard as she thought to look him dead in the eye. She could do this, she could...

"Dad I—I just wanted you to know that I—I'm..." she trailed off, as she noticed he was no longer looking at her, seemingly distracted by something on the paper, taking up a pen and scribbling something.

She heaved a small, barely audible sigh.

Maybe it could wait until after the ceremony, when he wasn't so...preoccupied.

"I'm rooting for you tomorrow, I know you'll do great," she finished, the ache at keeping everything bottled up weighing heavily in her chest, "I—I just wanted you to know that..."

She watched with curious orbs as her father nodded, his gaze rapidly flying across the page he was now immersed in.

"Thank you Robin, I'll see you in the morning. Don't forget to wake your sister, you know she always sleeps through the alarm," he replied, his tone one of finality, still not looking at her.

She knew was that meant.

You're dismissed.

* * *

"What do you think they're talking about in there?" Deeks asked, his eyes trained on the now closed kitchen door, whispering to Kensi, sounding every bit of a paranoid conspiracy theorist.

"Why are you whispering?" Kensi asked lowly, forcing herself not to look at him but to keep her gaze on the TV.

"Because my mom has hearing as good as Hetty's," he continued to hiss under his breath, his eyes narrowed, his body tense, as if the door was going to burst open at any second.

"And you don't want her to overhear your top-secret spy plans?" she deadpanned with a roll of her eyes.

"No, I don't want her to hear what's probably going to be one of the most difficult conversations I've ever initiated," he replied cryptically.

Well, that was an attention grabber if she ever heard one.

A heavy sensation rose in her gut, her toes curling in anticipation.

"Kens—"

"Not here," she interrupted, shuffling forward on the couch and slowly rising, her arm wrapped around herself.

"What—"

"Bathroom. Now," she ordered, no room for argument before grabbing the front of his T-shirt with her other hand and pulling him up.

Deeks forced his feet to move, trudging along behind her, looking down at her fingers that were still clamped around his tee as she made her way down the corridor, her eyes staring straight ahead. When the bathroom came within sight, she halted, her hand unclenching from him and gesturing for him to step into the room. With raised eyebrows, he complied, his throat drying up a little as he felt her walk closely behind him. He caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and saw that she looked just as...anxious as he felt. This was it. This was the moment they had been avoiding the last three weeks.

"What's on your mind, Deeks?" she murmured, not able to look him in the eye, leaning back against the door, it closing with a soft snap.

He slowly turned on the spot, clasping his hands behind his back, trying (and failing) to slow his rapidly beating heart, staring at the beautiful brunette as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

It was now or never.

_Come on Deeks, spit it out!_

"You were going to kiss me!" he exclaimed louder than he intended, a flush rising to his cheeks as he realized that all air of grace had escaped him.

Kensi's eyes rose from the floor to stare at him.

"Well," she shrugged, taking a step towards him, "you kissed me first."

Deeks' mouth dropped open. That was not the reply he was expecting. Frantically, he scrambled his brain to try and come up with a response.

"No," he shook his head, taking a step towards her, "you kissed me at the hospital. I just put it down to all the drugs you were on so—"

"You kissed me before that."

Those five words stopped him dead in his tracks. Wordlessly, he gaped at her, his heart practically going into cardiac arrest.

_So she did know...oh god..._

"I...I heard what you said...the night I was shot," her voice had lowered to barely above a whisper as she halted, barely a foot from him, arms still wrapped protectively around herself.

Deeks still couldn't find the words.

"You said that...I mean more to you than you could ever tell me but you wanted to try one day," she paused biting her lip, her brow furrowing as she struggled with what she wanted to say next.

"Deeks, something I've learned lately is—we never know what's coming one day to the next so...so I'd like to know what you wanted to tell me, please..." she trailed off, a hint of nervousness in her tone, her dark eyes gleaming brightly.

A silence descended on the pair as Deeks struggled to unglue his tongue from the roof of his mouth. It was finally happening, the moment he'd been waiting for since...he couldn't remember how long. _Years?_ It had taken four, but they had finally gotten to this point. Taking a deep breath, he looked up and caught her beautiful polychrome eyes. Suddenly the ex-detective felt at ease, the weight in his chest rising like a balloon. He could do this, it was long overdue, for both of them.

"Kensi I—"

"Kensi? Are you in there?" a voice wafted from behind the door, cutting him off.

The brunette inhaled a sharp breath. Really? Again? Her mother had _incredible_ timing...

Deeks smiled softly at her, shaking his head, hardly believing their luck...or lack thereof.

"Yeah mom, I'll be out in a minute," she called, rolling her eyes.

"Okay sweetheart! Have you seen where Marty got to?"

The partners winced as they realized the awkwardness of their situation. There was just _something_ in Julia's tone that suggested she knew _exactly_ where Marty had gotten to...

"Uh..." Kensi looked to Deeks, her eyes wide in a 'help me!' expression but he merely shrugged, throwing his hands up in the air to silently reply, 'what do you want me to do about it?!'

"Oh honey, open the door for a second I want to ask you something," Julia continued as if she hadn't heard Kensi's lame attempt at answering her.

"No mom, I can't," Kensi shook her head wildly, despite her mother not having x-ray vision and glaring at Deeks, as if expecting him to just vanish into thin air.

"Why? What's wrong? Are you okay? I'm coming in!" Julia exclaimed before the door began to creak open.

Frantically Kensi pushed Deeks backwards towards the shower. Deeks gaped at her, realizing what she wanted to do and tried to argue but she just continued to push him, an aggrieved expression on her face as she clearly aggravated her wound. Noticing that it was causing her pain, the blond shook his head and jumped into the shower, Kensi just pulling the curtain back in time before Julia stepped into the room.

"Are you going to take a shower?" she asked, watching as her daughter stood in the middle of the room, her chest heaving a little, her face stricken.

"Uh, no, was just...catching my breath. I—I think I stood up too fast," Kensi replied, her eyes glued to the shower curtain, watching for any sign of movement.

Meanwhile, Deeks was sprawled against the wall, staring up at the ceiling and holding his breath, wondering why the hell he was hiding from her partner's mother in her shower of all places. It wasn't like they were doing anything...untoward.

At that thought, his heart did a little rumba in his rib-cage. He had been so close, so terrifyingly close to letting everything just spill from him like cascading water from a bursting dam. It was tiring, all this time, keeping everything he felt bottled up and now he'd gotten closer than he ever had before to breaking the seal he'd kept a tight lid on for years...

From the doorway, Julia looked from her daughter to where she was staring and shrugged.

"Okay well...Angela and I are just putting dinner on the table now if you want to join us. You too Marty, when you're finished your shower, that is—"

Deeks' feet slipped from under him as he heard her address him, falling back against the faucet and turning it slightly.

Ice-cold water sprayed down onto his head, drenching his hair and clothes.

"Shit..." his hissed under his breath just as the shower curtain was reefed back to reveal a very unimpressed-looking Kensi Blye.

"What the hell, Deeks?!"

The blond merely shrugged as he tried to regain his balance, slipping even further until he was on his knees, the water running down his back.

"Little help?" he asked with a sheepish grin, shaking the dripping flaxen tendrils from off his forehead.

With a roll of her eyes, the agent reached forward and shut off the water, throwing him a look of dismay as she drank in his state, something akin to a drowned-rat. With a bite of her lip, she ignored how his gray T-shirt was sticking to his chest, turning translucent, defining his pecs and offered him her hand.

"Where did your mom go?" he asked, his bright eyes darting to the door.

"She said something about 'giving us some privacy' before practically skipping out of the room," she grumbled, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "come on...we gotta get you out of those wet clothes..."

His eyebrows raised and she sighed.

"You know what I mean."

"Oh I know what you mean, Blye..." he smirked, taking her hand and climbing out of the shower.

Kensi winced as droplets of water dripped from his hair down onto her. Once Deeks was upright, she grabbed a towel from the rack and threw it at his head. He dragged it down over his face and through his hair before letting his arms hang at his sides, knowing that the rest of him was a lost cause, his clothes sticking to his body uncomfortably.

"Come on, I might have something for you to wear," Kensi murmured before turning stiffly and walking out of the room.

Deeks followed after her, his shoes squelching loudly. It took him a moment to realize where exactly it was she was leading him, a room he'd only ever been once before (remembering sorely the swift kick he got for his trouble...) her bedroom. And rapidly, his heart was doing the rumba again...

"Uh—"

"Try not to drip everywhere," she called over her shoulder, stepping over to her closet and rifling through it.

"I don't think I'm the hot-pink _négligée_ type Kens," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Neither am I," she replied smartly, her back still turned as she pulled out something that was most certainly not a négligée.

"Here, they should fit," she turned and shoved a pair of sweatpants and a dark T-shirt with the Navy insignia across the chest into his hands.

"Who—"

"The sweatpants are mine but they're a couple of sizes too big. The T-shirt...is Jack's," she finished, swallowing deeply, avoiding his gaze.

He stared down at the shirt, a heavy sensation settling into his stomach.

"I—I'll be in the kitchen. I can throw your clothes in the dryer, they should be dry again by the time we're finished dinner," his partner mumbled before shuffling slowly out of the room, closing her bedroom door behind her.

Deeks stood in the middle of the room, still staring down at the worn T-shirt, knowing it had to at least be nine years old but it was clean, smelled like it had been washed recently.

_She still wears it..._

Suddenly, the wet clothes felt a lot less uncomfortable than they had before. In fact, he had absolutely no desire to take off his wet shirt. The pants, they could go, but he was fond of his Ramones tee, wet or not. And besides...he wasn't in the Navy.

With a shake of his head, he placed the T-shirt back on her bed, trying not to let the insignia burn its image into his brain and kicked off his shoes, reaching down to pull off his socks. It was safe to say, he never thought this would be the way he'd be stripping in Kensi Blye's bedroom...

* * *

Dark eyes narrowed to slits as nimble fingers threaded a long, copper wire under the harsh light of a desk lamp. Tense shoulders hunched over the marred wooden table as steady hands gently attached the electronic timer onto a Kevlar vest. It was his very own uniform, one that would prove to make quite an...explosive impression. He smirked at his pun, Kevin was always better with the clever wordplay.

Just as he put the finishing touches onto his masterpiece and very carefully deposited it back in its case, his phone rang. With a sigh, he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and picked up his cell, pressing the accept button wearily.

"Stan," he muttered, not waiting for his Navy buddy to speak, "what do you want?"

There was a short, humorless laugh at the other end of the line.

"That's a nice way to answer the phone," Stan Jacobs groused, a sigh on his lips.

"Now I know you didn't call to check me on my manners Stan," Oliver responded, assembling his camera equipment into a neat pile on the table.

"No, I am calling to check you're okay though," his friend replied, a hint of concern in his tone.

Now it was Oliver's turn to laugh.

"And why wouldn't I be?"

There was a short silence. Oliver could practically see Stan struggling for words.

"Well, when you saw that invitation last time you were here you...you looked a little...upset," he grumbled lowly.

The memory flashed before the ex-Lieutenant's eyes. He had come so far since he first saw that invitation less than a month ago. He did love it when a plan came together...

"I'm fine," he shrugged as he stood up to grab his camera bag, a small, .22 calibre gun resting on top of it.

With one hand, he picked up the gun and dislodged the clip, letting it fall onto the table before stashing the parts in the bag with his photography equipment.

"Okay, once you're sure. Just—just so you know, I'm really glad you're doing better, man. How's the photography going?"

A slow smile spread across Oliver's face as he stared down at his handiwork.

"Yeah, it's going great thanks. In fact, I got a new gig, starting tomorrow..."

"Oh well, I better let you go then, it's late. I gotta catch a flight to New York tomorrow but when I get back, you'll come over for dinner, right? Jenny wants to make you her famous casserole," he paused, waiting for Oliver to say something.

"Uh...yeah sure, sounds good. So, you're not going to Hart's ceremony then?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Another sigh omitted from the Lieutenant.

"No man I—out of respect for you and Kevin, I thought I'd skip it," he mumbled uncomfortably.

A wave of relief washed over Bradley, a small smile spreading across his face.

"That's good, thanks man, I appreciate it. Enjoy New York..."

"Good luck with the new job," Stan replied before ending the call.

Bradley sat there for a moment, taking in his old friend's words.

Unfortunately, luck was the last thing he needed.

* * *

"And then, when Marty was eight, he met a young boy named Wyatt, he was such a smart boy, so mature, so...philosophical for his age—"

"He was about as deep as that Brad Pitt Chanel commercial," Deeks cut across his mother as Julia laughed and Kensi hid a smile behind her glass, "you just thought the sun shined out his ass because he handpicked you flowers from his garden."

"Marty! Language!" Angela mock-chided before adding, "he was ridiculously well-dressed for an eight year old, though. I mean, maybe it's just me but...I think kids should be allowed to actually run and play and explore the world, not be too worried because they might get dirt on their blazer..." she trailed off with a shake of her head.

Julia nodded, chuckling.

"I remember when Kensi was five; she had this desire of wanting to wear her underwear over her pants like the superheroes—"

"Mom!" Kensi scolded as Deeks snorted.

Angela grinned, elbowing her son.

"Oh, I remember those days. Marty was absolutely obsessed with comics growing up. I couldn't get him to go asleep at night. He'd just stay up with his flashlight under the blankets and read until he passed out. I remember having to explain to his third grade teacher why he insisted on wearing a cape to school every day," she paused as Deeks mock-glared at her.

"You made me that cape," he reminded her pointedly.

"Well, my baby wanted a cape, so I made you a cape," she shrugged, "it was essential in your crime-fighting...or so you told me, anyway. Personally, I think you just wore it to impress the girls."

"Oh yeah because nothing says impressive like a skinny, pasty kid wearing a red sheet around his neck," Deeks deadpanned as Kensi tilted her head at him.

"You were pasty?"

Angela nodded, waving her hand at the younger brunette.

"Oh yeah, Marty only seemed to start to tan when he hit his pre-teen years. Probably right around puberty—"

"Mom..." Deeks warned.

"And what age was that?" Kensi asked, a grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat speaking across her face.

"Around the time he decided that capes wasn't doing it for the girls so learning an instrument would," Angela quirked her eyebrow at her son.

"And you thought that instrument should be the violin," he groused, digging his fork into a potato.

"The violin is a wonderful instrument Marty and you play it beautifully," his mother replied matter-of-factly.

"Yeah but chicks dig guitars and a violin does not a rock star make," Deeks reminded her before Kensi piped up:

"I don't know, I was never much of a guitar groupie," she shrugged, as she took a sip of soda.

Julia and Angela exchanged a look, one that did not go unnoticed by the two partners.

Softly, Kensi cleared her throat and pushed her plate away from her.

"Thanks for the meal mom, Angela, it was great," she smiled gently, laying down her cutlery.

"It must be nice to be back on solid food," Deeks' mom commented as she and Julia began to clear away the plates.

"Yeah, that mushy stuff was gross," Kensi grimaced as she recalled the glorified baby-food she was served at the hospital.

"It looked like snot," Deeks offered helpfully as Kensi slapped him on the shoulder.

"I honestly don't know where he gets his grossness from," Angela sighed wearily as her son smirked at her.

"From the best mom, from the best," he winked before helping Julia bring the dishes into the kitchen.

Kensi watched them for a moment, her face softening as she saw him tell her mom a joke, Julia laughing heartily. He was always so great with people, always quick with some funny quip to put everyone at ease; he really could bring lightness to any situation...

"Something on your mind?" Angela asked curiously, tilting her head at her.

The agent snapped to attention, her eyes finding the elder woman's.

"Oh uh...I was just thinking that Deeks he...he's a really good person, Angela. You should be proud," she smiled softly.

"I am," she grinned back, "you mom should be very proud of you too. From what Marty tells me, you're the best partner he's ever had..."

Kensi's eyebrows rose. She didn't know why, but that statement surprised her.

"Really?" she found herself asking as butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

"Yeah," Angela nodded, "you really mean a lot to him, Kensi. I hope you know that."

The brunette stared at her wordlessly. Before she could come up with a response, Julia and Deeks came back into the room, a pie and fresh plates in their hands.

"Alright everybody," Julia grinned, putting the pie down on the table and cutting it into slices, "dig in!"

* * *

"Oh my god, is that the time?" Angela exclaimed a while later as she checked her watch, "I better get going, Kensi, you must be exhausted!"

Kensi shook her head at her, perched on the couch beside Deeks, her head tilted a little, almost touching his shoulder, too tired to worry about the awkward tension between them.

"No Angela, don't go on my account, I'm fine—"

"Nonsense! You were just released from hospital this afternoon. I'm sorry, time really got away from me," she apologized as she stood up, waving Kensi and Julia's protests away, "I better call a cab—"

"No hey mom, I'll drive you," Deeks murmured, standing up gently as to not disturb his partner too much.

"Well if you're sure, you better go get your pants then, huh?" she laughed, pointing at Kensi's too-short sweatpants that he was wearing, showing off his bare ankles.

"Oh yeah, I'll get them outta the dryer," Kensi said as she gently got off the couch, shuffling into the laundry room, Deeks hot on her heels.

With a wince, she went to bend down to open the dryer door when suddenly two hands sprawled softly on her hip and back, moving her gently to the side. Deeks then stepped beside her, leaning down to take out his jeans and socks before straightening up, a somewhat awkward expression on his face as he stared at her, motionless. It was then that Kensi realized that they had somehow migrated to stand close together again, barely a foot between them, her back resting against the machine as he held his clothes out in front of him.

"You were right," she murmured, staring at a spot to the left of his shoulder.

"Course I was…about what?" he asked, frowning in thought.

"I was going to kiss you."

Deeks bit his lip, ducking his head as her cheeks flushed.

"You didn't let me dry your shirt," she said suddenly, realizing that his Ramones tee still looked a little damp.

"No it—it wasn't that wet so I just kept it on," he shrugged, eyes on his now warm and dry jeans.

Kensi nodded, stepping around him and heading towards the door.

"Okay well, I'll let you get changed—"

"Kensi!" Deeks exclaimed, halting her in her tracks. Slowly, she turned back around to face him.

"Yeah?"

He shifted his weight from bare foot to bare foot before clearing his throat.

"Uh that—that talk from earlier...I was just wondering...could we maybe continue it? There are some things that I really need to say to you—"

"There are things I need to say to you too," she murmured, a somewhat shy grin on her face.

Deeks returned it, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Okay then, I'll bring over some lunch tomorrow, we can watch some TV, reruns of_ Top Model_, _Some Kind Of Wonderful_, whatever you like and we'll talk," he finished as she nodded, still chewing on her bottom lip, something he knew she did when she was nervous.

"I look forward to it. Don't forget the Oreos," she called over her shoulder as she walked back out into the corridor.

"Didn't my mom bring you enough?" he asked her retreating back.

"You can never have enough Oreos, Deeks..."

* * *

Soft rays of sunlight shone through the clouds, basking many cars of all colours and sizes as they pulled up outside The Regency Hotel in west Los Angeles. Taking a deep breath, Robin Hart reached out to open the door, shooting a glance at her mother who laid her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Are we here already?" he asked, somewhat surprised at the shortness of the journey.

"Yes Patrick, come on, let's just settled in our room. The ceremony doesn't start for another hour," Elizabeth Hart said as Robin opened the door, stepped out and held it open for them.

"Thanks, sweetheart," she smiled at her daughter, reaching out to take her husband's hand as he struggled to stand up.

"I'm fine Betty, stop fussing," he grumbled under his breath, straightening his dress-uniform as he stood up, a wince crossing his features.

"Okay well, we'll get you settled so you can look over your speech," she replied, sharing a look with Robin who just shrugged and grabbed one of their suitcases, heading for the entrance to the hotel.

The Captain nodded, putting his head under his arm and following his daughter, eyes straight ahead, head held high. Betty watched his retreating back, a knot of worry in the pit of her stomach. To her right, her eldest daughter Marie climbed out of the other car with her two twin boys and approached her.

"How is he?" she asked under her breath, following her eye line.

"He's...holding up," she sighed before patting her grandsons' heads, "come on boys, let's go look at your fancy hotel rooms."

The boys cheered jovially, racing into the hotel and bouncing around their grandfather excitedly as he signed in at the lobby reception desk.

Off in the near-distance, unbeknownst to them, the family was being watched by dark, narrowed eyes. As they all piled into the elevator, Bradley took the opportunity to approach the lobby desk and the smiling blonde behind it.

"Hi, my name is Kevin Barnett," he grinned, holding up his pristine fake-ID, "I'm here to photograph the ceremony in honour of Patrick Hart this afternoon."

"Oh yes, Mr Barnett, we've been expecting you. There is a conference room down the corridor to the left where you can set up your equipment, if you'd like to follow me..." the cute blonde stood up, motioning to him.

Oliver nodded, a smile creeping onto his face as he was led down the immaculate corridor.

Phase One: Complete.

* * *

Marty Deeks stifled a yawn as he poured himself a cup of hot coffee. He had had one hell of a night. First, Kensi was released from hospital (a big event in itself), then he had been caught training with Monroe by Callen and Sam after getting his ass handed to him by Hetty and finally having a definite 'moment' with Kensi, one of the most important he has ever had.

A pleased grin broke out on his face as he thought about his partner. He knew that the shift in their partnership/friendship wasn't in his imagination. She was going to kiss him, just like she did in the hospital, except this time it wasn't a cover kiss or while she was under the influence of medication. She was going to kiss him and he was going to kiss back and—and that was terrifying. Fantastic, but scary as hell.

It was finally happening, after all this time, four years next month. He was excited, scared, happy and anxious all at the same time. The anticipation was killing him, he'd hardly slept a wink all night, running scenarios around in his mind as he lay staring at the ceiling, wondering how their talk today was going to go.

At that thought, he glanced at his watch; he grin growing wider as he realized that it was less than an hour before he arrived at her house. Little did she know (and he'd never tell her) he was up, showered, dressed and ready to go since practically the crack of dawn. He'd even made sure to pick up Oreos on the way home last night at the 24 hour store just so he wouldn't have to stop on the way to her house today.

He couldn't wait to see her again...

"Someone's in a good mood," a voice came from behind him.

"It's a nice day," he replied, pouring another cup of coffee and turning to give it to his mother.

"I bet it is," she quirked an eyebrow at him, "would that goofy grin have anything to do with a certain beautiful brunette?"

"Julia?" he asked with a mock-puzzled expression on his face.

"I was thinking more of Julia's offspring," she said pointedly as she poured milk into the cup.

"Oh..." he trailed off, not able to keep the smirk off his face.

"Something happened between you two didn't it?" she asked, as blunt as ever.

"What? Mom—"

"Don't even try lying to me, Marty, you're terrible at it," she rolled her eyes, "besides, you can't go two seconds without grinning like a loon so I'm going to assume something did, no matter what you say," she finished with a shrug.

"Well, you assume all you like. Hey, I'm going out later—"

"Oh! Me too! Me and Julia are heading out for lunch, that new Italian place opened up by the mall—"

"You two are getting really chummy, huh?" he interrupted, folding his arms and tilting his head.

"She's an easy woman to talk to. She—she's had a hard life too," Angela's eyes lowered for a split-second, a darkness passing over her face before she shook her head and threw him a wry smile, "so yes, she's proving to be a good friend."

Deeks nodded.

"I'm glad you're friends, mom. Does she know that you're heading back at the end of the month?"

Julia shook her head, her face growing pensive.

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about, Marty. Would...would you be opposed to me staying a little longer? I—with this thing with Jimmy and my new friendship with Julia and everything that may or may not be going on with you and Kensi, I guess, I'd like to stick around," she finished, looking a little nervous as she awaited his response.

He didn't have to think about it.

"Are you kidding, mom? I love having you here! Of course you can stay longer, as long as you like! Speaking of Jimmy...how are you guys?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and elbowing her.

"You can be so immature sometimes," she mock-chided.

"I wonder who I get that from?"

They both shared a laugh as she began making him his favourite pancakes. There were definite perks to her sticking around...

"Things are good Marty, they're more than good."

Deeks smiled at the warmth in his mother's tone.

"I'm glad, if anyone deserves 'more than good' it's you, Mom."

"And you Marty, you deserve it too."

The blond smiled, squeezing his mom's shoulders in a one armed hug, his mind travelling to Kensi again.

He definitely had something more than good...

* * *

Dozens of well-dressed people made their way into a large, lavish room that was lined with wide, circular tables donned with candles and fresh white tulips. Men and women dressed in Navy blues, others in tuxedos and gowns, all went in search of their names that sat in front of their appointed seats as close to the stage, Captain Patrick Hart sat re-reading his speech, oblivious to the world around him. Suddenly, he felt a presence overshadow him, making the words on his flashcards difficult to see. With a frown, Hart lifted his head and was met by a face that he hadn't seen in an incredibly long time.

"Well I'll be damned...I wasn't expecting to see you here," he remarked, standing up and staring at the dark-eyed man.

"Patrick, how the hell are you?" the man smiled, offering his hand.

"Better than you look Owen," he laughed, shaking his hand vigorously and slapping his back.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would please take your seats, we will be beginning in a few moments," a young woman dressed in uniform said into the microphone.

"Dad!" Robin called, crossing the room, weaving in and out of the guests and halting in front of the two men.

"Lieutenant Robin Hart, this is Owen Granger, an old friend of mine. Owen, you remember my daughter?" Patrick made introductions, motioning between them.

"Last time I saw you, you were ten years old," Granger smiled as he shook the young woman's hand.

"Nice to see you again Mr Granger," she replied politely before turning to her father, "come on Dad, our table is over here..." she trailed off, waiting for him to follow her.

He shared a look with his old friend.

"Well, duty calls Owen," Hart pointed a finger at him, "don't you go disappearing. When all this hoopla is done, I have an incredibly overdue bone to pick with you," he smirked before following his daughter.

Deputy Director Granger stared at his retreating back for a moment before he was overwhelmed by the intense feeling that he was being watched. Glancing around, his eyes as steady as a hawk's, he surveyed the many guests and Navy personnel around him, not quite able to shake the sensation. Coming up empty on anything suspicious, he shook his head and went in search of his seat, truly looking forward to the day ahead.

Standing in the doorway of the room, was the ever-observing Oliver Bradley, having witnessed the scene between Hart and Granger. Interesting. The man looked like ex-Navy but he didn't recognize him. And after today, nobody else would either...

"Excuse me sir, we need to search you," a security guard said as he stood with metal detector device in hand as another guard took his bag.

"Of course," Oliver nodded, outstretching his arms and legs.

"ID, sir?" the second security guard asked he searched his bag, seeing his camera equipment and zipping it back up again.

Bradley handed him the fake ID.

"Mr Kevin Barnett," the guard said to his friend as he finished his body check and looked to his clipboard.

"Yeah, we got him here, he's the photographer," he nodded before handing Oliver back the bag and ID.

"Here you are sir, enjoy your day," he smiled as Oliver took his possessions and smiled back.

"Thank you, I will..." he murmured before stepping into the room, heading straight backstage to where he hid his other bag earlier.

It was time to put on his uniform...

* * *

"He shoots, he scores!" G Callen grinned as his paper ball flew into the trashcan.

"I could make that shot in my sleep, G," his partner groused, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms.

"Slow day?" Zack Monroe asked as he surveyed the two, walking into the bullpen and halting to rest against Callen's desk.

"Slower than most," Sam replied, "or maybe it's just because we don't have Kensi and Deeks here to entertain us..."

Zack chuckled, "sorry I'm no class-clown like Deeks."

"Don't worry about it, nobody is," Callen smirked as another paper ball landed in the trash can.

"Anybody see Hetty?" Sam asked after a moment's silence, glancing around to find his boss' office empty.

"She said something about meeting up with an old friend, you know how cloak and dagger she gets," Monroe murmured as he riffled through some paperwork, his head already aching despite the fact that it was barely past noon.

"You've no idea, kid," Callen said, getting bored of his game and going over to make himself a cup of coffee.

Maybe, he mused as he watched Sam and Monroe talk, just this once, they were actually going to have an uneventful day...

* * *

"And now, without further ado, the man of the hour, Captain Patrick Hart!"

Patrick stood up out of the chair that was lined with two others on the stage, kissing his wife and daughter on the cheek before shaking the Commander's hand and stepping up to the podium. As he stared out at all the smiling faces, all waiting for some grand speech, he couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. Honestly, he never wanted any of this. It was all a huge waste of time in his opinion and deep down, every single person in the room knew why he was being honoured today.

He was a dying man...a dying man who served his country for forty years and managed to not perish in combat. And they thought that deserved a big show. Well hell, he didn't think so. He would have preferred the money wasted on this event went to the youth, the young people who were just starting out in their careers, who were just finding their footing and would one day become successful men and women of the Navy – like his daughter Robin.

He was never more proud of her than the day she made Lieutenant. Standing tall and strong in her uniform, saluting her superiors, looking every bit like he did when he was promoted. He was really doing this for her. He knew how important is was for her to keep the faith, keep hoping that he would pull through this, that he would beat the cancer that had been slowly but surely killing him for a number of years now. And if she needed him to go through this fancy ceremony to keep that hope alive then so be it...

With a deep breath, he took one last look at his beautiful wife and daughter, and glanced to his other beautiful daughter and grandsons in the audience and began his speech, smiling warmly and for the first time in a long time, he felt well.

The audience hung on his every word as he thanked everyone involved with the day and reminisced about his old friends and old memories and how much he enjoyed his Naval career. Before he knew it, he was beginning his concluding paragraph:

"So friends, family and distinguished Naval personnel, it is with great honour and humble thanks that I conclude by saying I am incredibly lucky and proud of the career I have sustained serving the United States Navy. I wish now, to end my speech with a moment's silence for all of the fallen heroes, to give thoughts and prayers to them and their families..." he trailed off, bowing his head as they room descended into silence.

Suddenly, a flash of light shone in his face, the clicking of a camera taking a photograph disrupting the silence harshly. Glancing up, Hart frowned as he saw a young man in his early thirties, standing not two feet from the stage; large camera held above his head, it pointed in his direction. But that was not what caught his attention; it was the look of pure fury in the man's hazel gaze, the twisted expression of rage that marred his face.

"And you'd know all about the fallen heroes, wouldn't you Hart?" he called loudly, tilting his head as if waiting for a reply.

Hart merely stared silently at him.

"What? Don't remember my face?" he asked, tone dripping with false humour as he descended the steps of the stage, halting on the second, "that's funny, because no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget yours..."

There was a shift in the ambiance of the room. A tenseness that had begun to sink heavily into each guest as they watched on.

"What the hell are you doing? Get off the stage before I call security!" Robin Hart stood up, storming over to the man and reaching out to clasp his elbow.

"Ah, ah, ah lady, I wouldn't do that if I were you," he murmured with a smirk, tilting away from her, his jacket falling open in the process to reveal a large Kevlar vest, donned with wires and what appeared to be blocks of C4, a small red timer emblazed across the chest, the numbers 03:49:21 quickly counting down the seconds, 20, 19, 18...

"Now," Bradley said calmly as there were loud gasps, frantic murmurs and a couple of screams throughout the crowd, "if you value your lives, you will do precisely what I say..."

And so he began making his demands, retrieving a gun (now assembled) from his camera bag and pointing it at Robin Hart. Quickly, he told everybody to remain in their seats, forced two guests to chain the doors closed with large locks as another two went around with two black bags collecting cell-phones and other electronic devices, along with any weapons.

Patrick remained frozen to the spot, staring as the man shoved a pistol into the back of his daughter's head. Frantically, he searched for a familiar face and found Granger, at a table to his left. Silently, they engaged in a conversation.

Behind his back, Granger quickly typed out his distress message, sending it to the person at the top of his speed-dial before he was forced to deposit his phone into one of the plastic bags. As he caught the Captain's gaze, he gave a tiny, barely noticeable nod which clearly said:

_Help is on the way..._

* * *

Marty and Angela Deeks laughed as they cleared away their breakfast dishes. Deeks was getting ready; he was due at Kensi's in twenty minutes.

"Alright mom, have fun with Julia, I'll talk to you later," he smiled, bending down to kiss her cheek as he threw on his favourite jacket.

Angela smirked, looking her son up and down.

"You look very nice...you sure you're not going on a date?" she asked, her tone teasing.

"No mom, not a date," he replied, but the way his heart was hammering in his chest, it very well could be.

"Yeah, yeah, so you—"

Angela was cut off by Deeks' cell phone ringing.

"That's probably your not-date now," she laughed before waving and turning on her heel, grabbing her bag and leaving the apartment.

With curious eyes, Deeks walked over to where his phone lay on the table and caught the caller-ID. He frowned, why was Hetty calling him?

His heart skipped a beat. The last time Hetty called him, it was when Kensi was shot.

With shaking hands he answered the call, already rambling:

"Hey Hetty, what's going on? Is Kensi okay?"

After a beat of silence, Hetty's voice came from the other end, sounding a little on edge.

"Ms Blye is fine Mr Deeks...but I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut your leave early, we need all hands on deck. We need you now, down at The Regency Hotel. There is a hostage situation, a man with a bomb strapped to his chest has crashed the ceremony of a Naval Captain..."

Deeks eyes widened as he grabbed his keys, a fire burning in his veins as he already began running scenarios in his head.

"What's the situation like? Are Sam and Callen—"

"They and Mr Monroe are on their way. But there's something you should know, Mr Deeks..." she trailed off as he raced to his room, opened his safe and pulled out his gun.

"What?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Deputy Director Granger was the one that sent out the distress message to me. He's at the ceremony, with over fifty people, both Naval and civilian with enough C4 strapped to him to take out everything within at least a four-block radius."

Deeks let out a breath as he locked up his apartment and raced down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

This was bad, very bad.

Looks like his not-date with Kensi would have to wait...

* * *

Kensi Blye drummed her fingernails on her kitchen table, her chin resting in her other palm as she glanced at her clock for what must have been the tenth time in the last five minutes.

He was late.

While it wasn't rare for Deeks to be late, she had hoped that today would not be one of those days. She had barely slept all night and was on edge, a nervous excitement in her gut, a bubbly, fluttering sensation that made her want to keep moving, to not stay still. Unfortunately, in her current position, running around her apartment was not an option right now so she was forced to sit and wait, something she (a woman of action) couldn't abide. But she'd do it...for him.

But seriously? He was already fifteen minutes late! She could barely stand it. After yesterday, after admitting that she wanted to kiss him, that she had heard his bedside confession, she couldn't possibly be expected to remain calm, patient. She was only human, after all.

Four years. Four long years this had been building. Their 'thing.' And now, it was finally at a head, finally morphing, changing into something...different, even better than before. She could feel it.

And yeah, even as little as three weeks ago she would have been terrified...a part of her still was. But so much had changed between them, so many things experienced, said and unsaid. She wanted to at least talk it out with him, no matter how horrifying that sounded. She was never one to express her feelings, she was an action kinda girl, always was. But she knew that this was something that meant far too much to go in blind. To shoot first and ask questions later.

So, she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Just when she was going to cave and consider sending him a text with questions and demands and curse words, her phone beeped, signalling she got a voice-mail. Annoyed with herself for having missed the call, she snatched it up. Biting her lip, she held the phone up to her ear, a sense of foreboding settling into her bones, ice-cold dread sending shivers down her spine...

"Hey Kens, it's me..." Deeks' voice called into her ear, it settling her nerves a little, "listen, I—I've been called back into work...something's going down at a hotel in west LA. But I—I'll call you later, okay? And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about our talk. Rain check? Okay...bye."

Her heart simultaneously lifted and sank. She was conflicted. Half of her was disappointed that he wasn't coming and the other half of her was happy to hear that he hadn't blown her off, that he'd just gotten called into work...

Before she could drive herself crazy analyzing that, a knock at her door caught her attention.

Frowning, Kensi slowly stood up, careful not to aggravate her wound, and shuffled to her door. It was too early for her mom to be back from being out with Angela (and she had a key) and she wasn't expecting anyone else...

It was at moments like these where she kicked herself for not having her gun at hand. But, never to be one to be caught unprotected, Kensi wrapped her hand around the bat she kept by the door, taking the last few steps. Slowly, she reached out with her other hand and pulled back the drapes that hung on her door, her mouth dropping open in shock as she saw who stood on the other side.

Dropping the bat and quickly turning the key to unlock the door, she flung it open and stepped back to look into her friend's eyes, drinking in his tired but pleased form.

"Nate?"

**A/N: Ten points to any Fringe fan that caught a very subtle reference somewhere in the chapter ;) Hope you guys enjoyed! An update will be posted within the next few weeks :D Forgive any mistakes, I had to update this super-fast...**

_**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**_

"_**It has to be me."**_

"_**Deeks—"**_

"_**No listen, it has to be me that goes in there. You guys are busy with clearing the area and I have experience in hostage negotiation, I—I think I can gain his trust, get him to disarm the bomb," Deeks said, his tone dripping with determination as he paced back and forth.**_

"_**And if you can't?" Callen asked, exchanging a glance with Sam before turning to Deeks.**_

"_**Then..." the newly-appointed agent murmured, "boom."**_


	33. Obloquy Part III

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 33: Obloquy (Part III)**

**A/N: Hey guys, thanks so much for your awesomeness :D Here's part III/IV. Hope you enjoy! Oh and if I don't manage to update before then, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE :D**

**Disclaimer: Last time I checked, my name wasn't Shane Brennan and I wasn't a dude. And nothing has changed. Guess that means NCIS:LA isn't mine :/**

* * *

**WOTD: OBLOQUY; ob·lo·quy**_** noun**_**. Strong public criticism or verbal abuse**

"GET BACK! NOW!"

Deeks stepped out of the shadows, his hands held up in surrender, inching closer to Oliver.

"I'm unarmed," he called, "it's just me Oliver, I'm by myself..."

The ex-Lieutenant stared at him, his dark eyes flashing dangerously.

Slowly, he raised the pistol, aiming it at Deeks' head.

"I said...get back."

* * *

_Two Hours Earlier..._

"Black, one sugar, right?" Kensi Blye asked her former colleague and old friend Nate Getz as he took a seat at her kitchen table.

"Oh you don't have to do that Ken—"

"So you heard I got shot, then?" she interrupted with a small sigh, taking out two cups for their coffee.

"Hetty may have given me a call," he replied vaguely before shooting her a concerned glance, "how are you?"

Kensi avoided his eye, turning back around to pour the coffee.

"I'm good," she replied, ignoring the tense ache radiating from her lower chest/upper abdomen.

"Uh huh," Nate responded, his disbelief coming off him in waves, "you catch the guy?"

The agent stiffened, the fiery eyes of Jessica Clarence staring her down as she raised the gun flashing before her eyes, shocking her. She had hardly thought about it since it happened...

"Girl, not guy," she corrected, spooning a large heap of sugar into one of the cups before clasping them and gently walking over to the table. She could feel her friend's eyes on her as she slowly lowered herself down into the chair.

"And yeah, Deeks got her," she nodded, eyes still lowered.

Nate tilted his head, watching her silently for a moment before taking a sip of his coffee. After a moment, he lowered the cup, curiosity getting the better of him.

"So, where is Deeks? I thought he'd be playing your personal nurse about now," he smirked as Kensi shook her head.

"He's uh...back at work," she murmured, it suddenly hitting her how much Nate had missed. She didn't feel comfortable delving into the events of the last few months where her partner-then-not-partner-then-partner-again was concerned.

"What do you mean...back?"

Damn him! He was always so perceptive.

"He uh...he was on leave for a while but he's back now," she responded as much as she could without giving too much away, "anyway, tell me about Europe, well, as much as you can anyway...what's it like?"

His dark eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, knowing a brush off when he saw one. But, he decided to let it go as she looked at him expectantly.

"It's...nice. The work I do is rewarding," he said with a smile, "it can get tiring though. I'm surprised I haven't passed out yet actually," he smirked as he took another sip of coffee. Perhaps the four cups of caffeine he had in the last six hours helped?

"Wait, you mean you came straight here? You haven't slept?" she asked, a frown crossing her features.

"Uh..." the psychologist murmured, his eyes widening.

Something clicked in the back of Kensi's mind as she stared at him, her eyes suddenly drinking in his rumpled figure, the dark circles under his eyes.

"What's going on, Nate?"

* * *

A gleaming, red, Chevy Malibu pulled up haphazardly outside The Regency Hotel, a tall, flaxen-haired man exiting it quickly and ducking under the police tape, walking with intent towards three men who stood in the adjacent parking lot, apparently arguing with two uniformed officers.

"Really? A Chevy Malibu?" one of the men said to him as he approached, his eyebrows raised as he craned his neck to get a better look at the car.

"What?" Deeks scoffed at Monroe who just shook his head amusedly as Sam and Callen turned to him.

"So, you're back huh?" Callen asked, arms folded as Sam continued to speak heatedly to the two officers in front of them.

"Guess so," Deeks nodded, watching the officers interact with the agent, "what's going on here?"

"What's going on here is that we've a hostage situation that falls under LAPD jurisdiction not NCIS," one of the officers replied, not even looking at Deeks, instead glaring at Callen.

"It fell under our jurisdiction the second we got the distress message from our superior," Callen argued, "the main target is Patrick Hart, a Captain in the United States Navy...we're the Naval Criminal Investigative Service so it's our wheelhouse."

The two officers stared wordlessly at him, unable to dispute him.

"We'll have to get our Lieutenant on the phone," the first officer murmured as the second retrieved his cell phone.

"Tell Bates Deeks says hi," Deeks said pointedly with a nod before catching Monroe's eye.

"Your old boss?" he asked under his breath as two detectives strode towards them, determination in their stride.

"What the hell is goin' on here, Deeks?" snarled the first.

"Mackey," Deeks nodded, recognizing him as one of Harris's old pals.

"Last I heard, Bates fired your ass, what're you doin' here? Civilians get in the way..." the second detective asked, his tone as venomous as the first.

"Rhodes," Deeks nodded again, "to answer in order, we're here to assist in the hostage situation, I wasn't fired I quit and I'm not a civilian, I'm an agent."

A short silence followed those words.

"Huh," Mackey murmured, nudging his partner, "so you went from Detective Dick to Agent Asshole..."

Monroe gaped between them and Deeks as the ex-detective merely smirked in reply.

"Detective Mackey, it's Lieutenant Bates," one of the officers returned, holding out his cell phone for the detective to take.

Callen, Sam, Deeks and Monroe watched on in silence as Mackey's face morphed from smug to crestfallen. With a frustrated twist of his mouth he uttered a "yes, sir," before practically shoving the phone back into the officer's face.

"Looks like we'll be assisting NCIS on this one Rhodes," he addressed his partner, staring Deeks in the eye intently, "they've got lead..." he finished before storming off in the opposite direction.

After a moment, Monroe let out a low whistle.

"Whoa Deeks...if looks could kill—"

"I'd be six feet under," the ex-liaison murmured before turning to Callen, "so, what's the plan?"

* * *

A short, gray-haired woman bit her lip, her hands trembling as Oliver Bradley's dark eyes bore into her.

"E-Excuse me?" she asked, trying to keep her composure.

"You heard me, lady," Bradley growled, throwing a brown-paper bag at her. "I want you to bind everybody together, both hands, like a giant peace circle," he smirked, watching intently as she emptied out the bag to find dozens of zip-ties.

"O-Okay," she nodded, approaching a young woman in Navy uniform and taking her right hand, then holding it up against the middle-aged man standing next to her and fastening it to his left hand. Swallowing nervously, she then took the young woman's left hand and held it up to another woman's, entrapping their wrists with the black band. When she was done, she stood back, taking in the sight. There, standing in front of her were three people bound together, staring at her with wide eyes. With a sigh, she went to work in making the line even longer...

Bradley nodded, satisfied that she was doing as he wished. He then turned back to the good ol' Captain who sat bound on a chair in front of him, his wife, daughters and grandsons all huddled together, watching on fearfully as the timer on his chest continued to count down: 03:22:47...46...45...

Meanwhile, the gray-haired woman, Marjorie, took out another zip-tie, trying to ignore the angry mutters that were now radiating from Oliver, stepping close to a tall, bald man with dark eyes and reaching out to clasp his right wrist. It was just when she was binding it to another woman's was she startled by his left hand coming up to rest on hers, patting it gently. Her hazel eyes rose and caught his, they warm and comforting before he let it drop into position to be bound too.

Suddenly, she didn't feel as frightened as she had before. There was just something so reassuring about the man, something which silently said _'don't worry, everything's going to be okay.' _

Owen Granger watched as the older woman stepped away from him and went to bind more people together. He had wanted to offer her some comfort, however silent. With cautious eyes, he turned his attention to Bradley, watching as he shouted into Patrick Hart's face, the Captain staring straight ahead, his face perfectly passive as if he could neither see nor hear Bradley's abuse. He didn't know how long the ex-lieutenant would stand for that...

The team needed to get a damn move on before Bradley lost whatever patience he had left...

* * *

"So Hetty thinks I need a shrink?" Kensi asked, her tone sharp, her eyes narrowed as she fought the urge to fold her arms.

"No, she—"

"So it's just a coincidence that you show up the day after I get out of hospital?" she cut across Nate who shuffled in his chair, his eyes glued to the table.

"Not a coincidence per se, just...fortunate timing," he muttered before clearing his throat and avoiding Kensi's look of disbelief. "Seriously, I—I've been saving up some vacation time and had every intention of coming back to LA—"

"But Hetty called you yesterday?" she asked, forgetting herself and leaning forward slightly, a sharp pain shooting up her abdomen. With a wince, she leaned back in the chair, resting a hand on her stomach.

Nate's eyes filled with concern for a moment, "yeah, Hetty called me yesterday. Said something about a reunion being in order to...boost morale," he halted, observing her as she shifted in the chair to a more comfortable position before asking lowly, "so, how are you guys? You and Deeks and Callen and Sam and Eric and Nell?"

Kensi smirked, "what are we, The Brady Bunch?"

"If The Brady Bunch were kickass fighting machines, maybe," he grinned, "but seriously, last time we spoke was far too long ago..."

A wave of guilt settled into Kensi's gut as she realized that it really had been weeks since she'd sent as much as an email to Nate.

"We're good," she shrugged, "you know, the job's the same as it always was. We're the same as we always were..." she trailed off, not sure exactly what it was that he wanted to hear.

The psychologist nodded, dredging the last sip from his cup.

"You never did answer my question," the agent said suddenly.

Nate's hand froze half-way towards picking up an Oreo.

"And what question was that?" he asked, knowing that they were both well aware of what question he was evading.

"How come you came straight here after landing?"

Nate shrugged, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"I didn't come straight here. I checked into a hotel and—"

"And despite getting off a nine hour flight you decided to come here instead of getting a little rest? Don't get me wrong Nate, it's great to see you, it is but, why do I get a sense of...unease?" she asked, slowly leaning forward, being careful this time, and resting her elbows on the table.

Nate heaved a sigh, knowing that there was no point in hiding anything from her, she'd just have ways and means to find out another way and at least this way, didn't risk any injury for her...for him though, that was still on the cards.

"Okay...Hetty did call me yesterday," he paused, "but that was just to confirm a conversation we had a few weeks ago—about me coming to LA," he paused again, not comfortable divulging this information.

"Coming to LA for what?" Kensi asked, her brow furrowed.

"Coming to LA to...check up on Deeks," he murmured, not able to look her in the eye.

Kensi's frown deepened.

"So all that asking about Deeks and what did I mean he was 'back,' that was all an act? Hetty's already told you everything?!"

She couldn't help but feel angry on her partner's behalf. Yes, while Nate was a friend, he was also a psychologist that Hetty was divulging personal information about Deeks to and she wasn't okay with that...

"No, Hetty she—she didn't tell me everything. She just—told me that he quit the LAPD and...he was having a tough time after working on a particular case. I was supposed to fly out a few weeks ago but I couldn't get the time off and then you got shot and I—I didn't want to be in the way. I genuinely didn't know Deeks was back in work, Hetty didn't tell me anything. She just met me at the airport, told me something was going down at a hotel, advised me to come see you and keep my phone on," he finished, taking said phone out of his pocket and placing it on the table in front of him, beside hers.

Kensi stared at the two phones for a moment, letting his words sink in.

"What's going down at the hotel?" she asked, hoping to gain some information on what her team could possibly be working on.

He shrugged, seemingly relieved that she was taking this better than he expected.

"I've no idea, she just said something about a shrink maybe coming in handy, you know what Hetty's like..." he trailed off, folding his arms and waiting for the agent's response.

But Kensi was deep in thought, a feeling of discomfort rising in her chest. _Why would Nate's shrink services be needed at a hotel? What was going on?_

"So uh, anything good on TV?" Nate's voice interrupted her musing.

Her dark eyes snapped up to meet his, confusion crossing her features.

"You wanna watch TV?" she asked, a hint of suspicion in her tone.

He nodded, not really blaming her for her somewhat wary nature.

"Well, that's if you're up to it. I've got nowhere else to be..." he trailed off, standing up and depositing the coffee cups in the sink, turning back around and meeting her gaze.

"Yeah, uh, TV sounds good," she nodded, rising from the chair gently and shuffling into her living room, grabbing the remote from off her coffee table.

"So, tell me Nate," she murmured as she eased herself down onto her couch, the doc sitting next to her, "are you a John Hughes fan?"

* * *

Marty Deeks and Zackary Monroe watched as a cab pulled up outside the parking lot, two people, a young man and woman, stepping out; silver briefcases in their hands as they made their way towards them, thick, black sunglasses covering their eyes.

"Oh look, it's the Men in Black," Deeks deadpanned as Eric and Nell took off their shades and stared at him, the latter clearing her throat.

"I mean—the People in Black," he amended with a smirk.

"Good to have you back, Deeks," the intelligence analyst smiled as her partner nodded in agreement.

"Good to be back," he replied before clapping his hands and rubbing them together, "alright wonder twins, wow me."

Eric walked around him and the LAPD officers and halted at the small fold-up table that stood outside the large RV that was an electronic haven, decked out with all the fancy gadgets that the hostage negotiation team had to offer. With a flourish, he opened the briefcase to reveal a small, 11 inch laptop surrounded by a couple of flash-drives and other tiny electronic trinkets that Deeks didn't recognize.

"That's what's going to hack into the hotel's security feed and give us eyes and ears?" one of the officers asked sceptically, his tone derogative.

"Good things come in small packages," Nell replied, her tone very much matter-of-fact as she went to stand beside her partner, they sharing a glance.

Deeks raised his eyebrows and shrugged at Monroe who couldn't keep the smirk off his face, the joke not escaping either of them.

"Too easy..." he murmured under his breath.

"What do you mean he's not here?" Sam Hanna's voice interrupted as he neared them, his aggravated attitude directed at Detective Mackey.

"The head negotiator, he's not here. He's on a seminar in Washington," he replied, swallowing deeply, clearly on edge as the large ex-SEAL stared him down.

"Well, guess one of your guys is gonna have to step up, make the call," Callen interjected the detective and Sam's staring match.

"He's not gonna talk to a cop," Deeks piped up with a frown.

Everyone turned to look at the newly-appointed agent.

"He's pissed at authority right now. Granger said in the message that he seemed to be some sort of ex-Military, right? More than likely Navy. And he's targeted a Naval captain, odds are he's not going to talk to any person in the position of power, so I doubt he has the patience for a hostage negotiator or an ex-SEAL," he paused to nod at Sam, "or anyone affiliated with the Navy..." he trailed off as the faces around him turned grim.

"That doesn't leave us a whole lot of options, Deeks," Callen remarked just as a large, news van pulled up beside them, a camera man and a news reporter climbing out.

"Oh great, that's all we need," Mackey muttered as he stormed towards the newcomers.

Looks like they were about to go live...

* * *

Kensi snorted as Nate mouthed the words to the final scene in _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_, his eyes staring straight ahead as a pajama-clad Matthew Broderick spoke to the camera.

"I never knew you were such a fan," she smirked, clicking off the DVD player and turning back on the TV, flicking through the channels.

"Just of this movie...I always wanted a day off like Ferris, but my mom always knew when I was faking it," he grumbled.

"Mine too," Kensi lamented, halting on the news broadcast, her ears perking up as the blonde reporter spoke loudly to the camera.

"Breaking news live from west Los Angeles, this is Lacey Preston. There have been reports of a bomb scare at a ceremony in The Regency Hotel. Authorities are on sight but we have yet to—oh sir! Sir! Can we get a statement?"

Kensi gaped, watching as the camera swung around to an irritated, dark-haired man, following him. From the corner of the screen, the back of a blond man's head could also be seen for a fraction of a second. The agent did a double take, leaning forward slightly, trying to catch sight of the blond man again, wondering if her eyes had deceived her.

"Was that...?" she trailed off as the reporter caught the blond's arm, halting him.

"Sir, can we get a statement? Is there any truth to these claims? Are the residents of Los Angeles in danger?"

Kensi watched silently as the man she knew (despite only seeing the back of his head) to be Deeks halted, shrugging off the reporter's hand, his back still to the camera.

"Hey, I know as much as you, lady. But if you want a statement, here's your man, Detective Cameron Mackey," he threw over his shoulder, walking faster, clapping the gormless Mackey on the back and racing away, letting his former colleague get ambushed by the reporter and her dutiful camera-man.

"Eric..." he murmured as he walked past the wonder twins, his head held high, not daring to look back.

"I'll make sure your face wasn't captured," the tech-analyst replied without even looking up from his computer.

"Good. Don't want to be fired on my first day as an agent," Deeks mumbled as he headed towards the RV where the LAPD officers were waiting.

Meanwhile, Kensi sat back in her house, craning her neck in vain to try and see around the dark-haired man that was now being interviewed by the reporter, watching forlornly as the blond head disappeared from off the screen.

"There is no cause for panic, the residents of Los Angeles must remain calm and trust that the investigative services are working to confirm or refute the rumor but as if of yet, that's all it is. Now if you'll excuse me," Detective Mackey took his leave, Lacey Preston arriving back on screen.

"More on this story as it unfolds..."

Slowly, Kensi turned to Nate as he stared back at her, his expression a little sheepish.

"A bomb? That's what the guys are investigating?"

"Uh...looks like—"

"Don't give me that Nate, I know Hetty briefed you before sending you here," she sighed, shuffling a little, trying to settle the nerves that had begun fluttering in her stomach.

"I—"

"You were never that good of a liar, Nate," she interrupted, "I suppose Hetty told you not to fill me in too?"

Nate sighed, knowing he was caught.

"She didn't want you to...worry, I guess. She knows the pressure of being out of commission can do to an agent and with cases like these—"

"Tensions are high. I get it...I guess..." she murmured, running her hand through her hair and wincing at the pull of her skin.

Nate could feel her sudden tenseness rolling off her in waves. This was precisely what he wanted to avoid – anything that could stress her.

"Hey why don't we watch another movie? John Hughes has a lot of—"

"Hell no," she shook her head, gesturing to the TV, "no way I'm staying completely outta the loop. We're watching the news," she nodded, turning her attention back to the screen.

Nate threw her a sideways glance, gauging the growing anxiety in her body language.

It was going to be a long day...

* * *

G Callen heaved a sigh as he hung up the phone, making his way back over to his team.

"That was Hetty," he informed them, "she said that one of her old friends, a mutual friend of Granger's, just got a call from his Lieutenant Commander, ten minutes after our reporter friend over there ran the story of a bomb scare here..." he trailed off, observing with narrowed eyes the woman and her camera-man off in the distance and the small crowd of onlookers that had formed around the police tape.

"And?" Sam prodded as Monroe and Deeks turned to him.

"And apparently, he thinks he knows the bomber," he paused, stepping closer to his team, "he says that it could be an old friend of his, an ex-lieutenant named Oliver Bradley. Initially, Lieutenant Commander Jacobs was meant to go to the ceremony but was called away on business at the last minute. He also said that Bradley seen the invitation on his desk a few weeks ago and seemed angered by it. Now, according to Jacobs, he spoke to Bradley last night who said he had a new job, a photography gig," he paused, nudging Eric, "can you get up a list of the people expected at the ceremony today, focussing on who was booked to photograph the event?"

Eric nodded, tapping rapidly.

"You think he got entrance to the event by posing as a photographer?" Sam asked as Eric pulled up the guest list.

"Got it," he clicked his fingers, pointing to the name under 'photographer', "it says here that the photographer is a Mr Kevin Barnett..."

Nell's fingers flew across the keyboard at the speed of light, typing in the name, the driver's licence popping up almost instantaneously.

"Okay, we got a driver's licence. Kevin Barnett, thirty-three, 5'11", brown eyes..." she trailed off, now typing in the name 'Oliver Bradley' and running facial recognition between the two.

"Bingo," she murmured after a few moments. "We got a match. Looks like Kevin Barnett and Oliver Bradley are the same person, guys..."

The team exchanged glances, their faces each holding the same level of determination. Callen nodded, folding his arms as the two detectives from LAPD approached them.

"Find out everything you can about Oliver Bradley, Nell. If Granger's message to Hetty was right, we have less than three hours before that bomb detonates..."

* * *

Less than fifteen minutes later, six pairs of eyes watched intently as Marty Deeks picked up a phone, taking a deep breath and staring straight ahead, trying to get in the zone.

"Whatever you do Deeks, don't screw this up," Detective Mackey growled as he nodded at the technician to connect the call.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence Mackey, but I have done this before," Deeks replied as the dial tone rang in his ear.

"Well, I know your penchant for pissing people off. Harris says it's legendary," the detective smirked.

"Yeah and some of things Harris has said helped ruin the career of a good cop, so forgive me if I take anything he says with a grain of salt," he muttered just as someone picked up the phone, startling him.

When there was no voice at the other end, Deeks looked to his colleagues and shrugged, saying clearly into the receiver, "hello? Who am I talkin' to?"

After another beat of silence, a loud exhale of breath sounded, followed by a low, angered hiss:

"You called me. Who the hell am_ I_ talkin' to?"

The sound of a pin dropping could be heard in the function room of The Regency Hotel in west Los Angeles it was that silent. Fifty separate pairs of eyes watched on as Oliver Bradley paced back and forth, grumbling under his breath as the phone continued to ring. Finally, after about two solid minutes, he let out a growl of frustration and stormed across the room, hopping over the bar and answering the phone that lay beside the register. He didn't speak however, just listened. After a moment, an irritated glare passed over his face.

"You called me. Who the hell am_ I_ talkin' to?"

* * *

That caught Owen Granger's attention, his hawk eyes narrowing as he stared at Bradley from his position across the room, both hands bound to people either side of him. They all stood, side by side, in one large, long line that stretched the entire length of the room from the very tip to toe, at least a dozen people not fitting and having to awkwardly line themselves on the adjacent wall like a clumsy 'L' as Patrick Hart sat like piggy-in-the-middle, bound to a chair, his family too, a few feet from him.

"I'm hanging up. I'm not in the mood for negotiating or talkin' about my feelings or—"

"My name's Marty," Deeks interjected from his seat in the RV, staring at Eric and Nell for any sign that they had hacked into the security feed.

At the red-head's thumbs up, he leaned forward and saw that they had indeed a visual of inside the hotel lobby. With a couple of clicks, Eric found the room in question, everybody in the vicinity visibly stilling as he put the image up on the large screen for all to see. There, in somewhat blurred colour, was at least fifty frightened people, all bound together, standing with their backs against the wall, staring silently at the man off to the side, behind the bar, phone to his ear.

"Well Marty, I'm not interested in anything you have to say. Goodbye—"

"Wait!" Deeks cut across him, "wait I just—I just wanna know what Captain Patrick Hart did to you. That's all..."

There was a long silence, then. So long in fact that if Deeks couldn't see him on the screen, he would have thought that he'd put the phone down and walked away.

"He didn't do anything to me..." he murmured, emotion heavy in his tone, "but he's the reason why my brother's dead. And he has to pay for that."

Deeks caught Callen's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them.

"But the innocent people, those in there with you and the many others that could be harmed if you detonate that bomb..." he trailed off, letting his words hang.

"How did you find out about the bomb?" Bradley asked, no anger in his tone, just suspicious curiosity.

"You don't seem to care that we know," Deeks dodged the question with an observation.

"And why would I? Once Patrick Hart gets what's comin' to him, I don't give a damn what you know or what you don't. Who are you anyway? LAPD?"

"No, I'm not LAPD," he murmured, avoiding his colleagues' eyes.

"They fire you for being a crappy hostage negotiator?" Oliver asked, the smirk evident in his tone.

"No. I quit. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do but...it just wasn't...who I was anymore," he responded, not entirely sure how the conversation had taken this turn.

His words were met by another short silence. Deeks' eyes trained on the screen, watching as Bradley shuffled back and forth, shifting his weight from foot to foot before answering.

"I quit the Navy...that really the way you're going to try and connect with me, man?"

"You quit because of what happened to your brother?" Deeks dodged again, genuinely curious as Eric or Nell couldn't find any information on why he was discharged yet.

"It was one of the reasons...yeah," Bradley replied slowly.

There was a beat of silence.

"Well, Marty, this has been fun and all but—"

"Don't you have a list of demands?" the ex-detective cut across him, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes glued to the screen, watching intently as Oliver shifted back and forth on his heels.

"That would imply that I want to negotiate. In case you missed it Marty...I don't," he responded, the condescension dripping from his tone.

"So you're just going to murder hundreds of people to destroy one man? Why not just shoot him?"

Six pairs of eyes gaped at Deeks, not believing what he just said.

"Are you trying to get people killed!?" Mackey hissed as Deeks waved him off, his gaze still glued to the screen, watching the ex-lieutenant's every move.

"Because something tells me you're not that guy, Bradley. Something tells me you know the devastation that a family goes through when a loved-one dies...I don't think you want to be responsible for hundreds of people's grief..." he trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he watched Bradley's hand that hung loose by his leg twitch.

"You've talked to me for what...five minutes and you think you know me, Marty?" he asked, his voice turning defensive.

"I don't know you," Deeks jumped in, his heart hammering, not wanting to anger him, "but I know someone like you. Someone that had a bad thing happen to someone he loves and wanted nothing more than to kill the person that did it..."

If Deeks were to look around him, he'd notice that every single person in the RV was staring at him, on the edge of their seats, wondering if what he was saying was true.

"And who's that?"

Deeks paused, taking a breath before answering:

"Me."

* * *

"So...what do you think he meant?" Nell Jones murmured softly to her partner as they went back to work at the table outside the RV a few minutes later.

"What?" Eric asked, his face tinged with confusion.

"Deeks...what do think he meant when he said he was someone who wanted nothing more than kill the person who hurt somebody he loves?" she edged closer, her tone laced with a hint of conspiracy.

"Isn't that pretty self-explanatory?" he replied, his eyes locking on hers.

"No, Eric—who do you think he was talking about?" she asked, evoking a wide-eyed glance from the tech-analyst.

"Uh..." he mumbled, wracking his brain as her eyebrows rose in anticipation.

"Nell, you get anything on Bradley yet?" Callen interrupted them, stepping out of the RV and approaching them.

"Uh yes, he lives in an apartment downtown, is single, has had some menial jobs in the last few years and no criminal record," she rattled off details from Bradley's file before turning to the agent.

"What's his address? Me and Sam are gonna go check out his apartment, see if there's anything that can tell us just what kinda bomb we're dealing with..." he trailed off just as Sam stepped out of the large vehicle too.

"Deeks still has him talkin'. For a guy that wasn't interested in negotiating five minutes ago, our new agent seems to have brought him outta his shell," he said, arms folded as he nodded at his partner.

"Well, let's hope Deeks can convince him not to blow up his shell," Callen murmured before checking the address Nell just sent him on his phone and heading over to the car.

The two analysts watched them go silently. After a beat, Nell turned back to Eric.

"I'm really glad I'm not Deeks right now..."

* * *

"Yes, I understand that Director Vance, I will indeed. You will be the first to know," Henrietta Lange promised before dropping hanging up the phone, a sigh on her lips.

It had been over an hour since she had gotten the distress message from Deputy Director Owen Granger and from then on she had been bombarded by the higher-ups for any information on his status. After receiving word from her team that the newly appointed Agent Deeks had taken point in the hostage negotiation, Hetty breathed a sigh of relief. She was well aware of the ex-liaison's past experience, knew more than she let on about a particular case he had worked on a few years ago involving a hostage situation of the same calibre. She was confident; if anyone could talk down Mr. Bradley it was Marty Deeks.

Shaking herself from her musings, she got her head into the game, preparing for what was surely going to be a rather difficult meeting. While she had every confidence in her team's abilities to rectify the situation, certain measures had to be put in place, in case worst came to worst. So, with a deep breath she pushed away from her desk and made the short trek towards the door of OSP, trying to push down her personal feelings and anxieties about her old friend's safety and that of the people of Los Angeles.

Now, there was work to be done.

* * *

G Callen and Sam Hanna walked briskly down the corridor, halting outside door 22 and nodding silently to each other. Attentively, Sam opened the door using the key they got from the superintendent and peered in. For all they knew, the place could be booby-trapped and they had come far too close with house bombs before to go in blindly. After a careful inspection of the immediate area, he nodded to his partner before stepping across the threshold, letting out a sharp breath at the suspenseful silence. So far, things seemed to be safe enough.

Quickly and quietly, the duo made their way through the small apartment, careful to search for trip wires, alarms, anything remotely suspicious that could tip them off to a planted bomb or defense mechanism. It seemed, after their first sweep however that Bradley had left them no such present as they came up empty on anything, the place cluttered with every conceivable kind of object from stacks of old newspapers to an assortment of old figurines, but nothing particularly dangerous.

"He must have a secondary location, somewhere he would have the space and privacy to make a bomb," Callen murmured as he searched Bradley's room.

"Eric said he was a photographer, right? Started about two years ago after havin' a few odd jobs to put him through classes?" Sam asked, his face suggesting to his partner that he had a theory.

At Callen's nod, Sam turned and retrieved something from off the desk behind him before holding it up for his partner to see.

"Well," he shrugged, the black and white photograph of a lake in his hand, "where do you think he'd go to develop these?"

* * *

A bead of sweat trickled down towards Marty Deeks' left eyebrow as he swallowed deeply, his throat going a little dry as he thought hard on how to answer Oliver Bradley's question.

"Well, Marty?" Bradley's voice was imploring in his ear, "what did you do to the guy that hurt your loved-one?"

"I didn't strap a bomb to my chest and take over a hotel full of people if that's what you're asking..."

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He didn't know why, but something about this conversation had him a little less on edge than he should have been in the situation. God knows the last time he was faced with this sort of situation, he never would have dared to run his mouth off, but something about all this just felt...off. He couldn't put his finger on it but...Bradley he just didn't sound like a man that intended to blow up a building. He was emotional, sure, very angry and in pain but he didn't have that _tone_. He knew the one, the tone that suggested that he wanted nothing more than grievous bodily harm, that edge to his voice that let everybody know that he was prepared to snuff out people's lives like the wick of a candle...

Any trace of that was absent. So Deeks went with his gut, despite his brain's protests.

"We all have our methods, Marty," Bradley replied, cutting across him before he could get the words out.

After a beat, he took his chance.

"Yeah, that's true Oliver, we all have our methods. And yours is, I gotta say buddy, an unconventional one. Tell me...apart from teaching the Captain a lesson, what exactly is your endgame here? Because it's not to blow up those innocent people," he halted, leaning forward and staring at Bradley on the screen, watching as his posture went rod-straight.

"Oh really? And why do you think that? I do have the motive, means and opportunity. Why not blow everybody up?"

And there it was. The magic words Deeks had been waiting to hear. The words fraught with hesitation. The subconscious questioning of his own actions. The sounds of a man who had only blindly thought of one thing and one thing only: revenge on the man that hurt him and yet, now faced with the follow-through, was in way over his head. Deeks knew how to play this...

"Because like I said, Oliver, you're not that guy. You're not a cold-blooded murderer; I can hear it in your voice. So why don't we talk about maybe letting the hostages go, huh? You said you had no demands but I'm prepared to try and get you whatever I can in order for those people to be set free. This isn't my first rodeo and I know you know how this works. You hold all the cards here, you're in control. No one, Captain or otherwise, can take that from you..." he trailed off, hoping he was right in going with Bradley's obvious dislike of authority, of making him the alpha in this.

There was a long silence then. Two bright eyes stayed glued to the screen, watching Bradley's every twitch, ignoring the other eyes he knew were glued to him watching his every twitch. It was a bold move, unconventional much like Bradley's plan, but that's why he went with it. Everything about this case screamed unorthodox, thus an out-of-the-box approach was needed to counteract the situation. He just hoped it paid off...

"Alright, if you're so sure I'm a good person, how about a little sign of good faith," Bradley responded after much deliberation.

Deeks' eyebrows rose, wondering where he was going with this.

"Sure. Name it."

"Oh no, not yet...where would be the fun in that? No, how about we take this to another level huh? I gotta admit, you have me curious, Marty. And seen as I only have a little over two hours to live I wanna satisfy that curiosity..."

An ominous feeling rose from the depths of Deeks' stomach as he waited for Bradley to continue.

"I think a face to face is in order...then you can really judge just what kinda man I am..."

* * *

"Storage locker 147, this is it," Callen halted, nodding to Sam before holding up his hand to the manager.

"Please sir, a little privacy..." he trailed off, watching as the manager seemed to be only too happy to give them as much privacy and space as they needed by turning on his heel and walking away.

After the civilian was safely out of harm's way, Callen turned to his partner who unlocked the pad lock, stilled for a moment before pulling up the shutter. At his partner's nod, in one fell swoop, he wrenched the door upwards and braced himself. When nothing out of the ordinary occurred, the partners exchanged another glance and let out inaudible, relieved sighs.

"Looks like he was using it as a make-shift dark-room," Sam commented as they stepped into the darkness, the dim, overcast sunlight barely illuminating the dank space.

Callen stepped in line behind him, his eyes scanning the pictures the hung from a line.

"There's Hart," he pointed to one of the many photos containing the Captain and his wife, "Bradley was doing recon..."

Two pairs of eyes raked every inch of the locker before finally reaching the end of the narrow space, confronted by a large, wooden desk empty of any and all objects except a lone, black-plastic box partially hidden underneath it.

"What have we got here...?" Callen murmured to himself, shinning his flashlight down onto the box, his gloved hand reaching out very carefully lift the lid slightly.

"Whoa..." Sam breathed as dozens of wires, electronic gadgets and an assortment of other nefarious items were revealed.

"Looks like we found his box of tricks," G shrugged, "what you think? The makings of a bomb?"

Sam nodded, convinced in that assumption before something caught his eye.

Carefully, he reached out and retrieved a laptop from underneath a bundle of books, holding it out for his partner to see.

"Looks like Christmas is coming early for Nell and Eric," he said just as Callen's phone began to ring.

"Speak of the devil," he muttered as he answered the call.

"Yeah Nell?"

"Uh Callen?" Nell's voice sounded in his ear, her tone seeming a little nervous, "I uh...I think you and Sam better get back here..."

Callen frowned.

"What's up?"

There was a slight pause, as if the intelligence analyst was picking her words carefully.

"I uh...I think Deeks is about to do something stupid."

* * *

The two partners raced across the parking lot, towards where a familiar scruffy-bearded, fluffy-haired ex-detective could be seen standing, arguing with Cameron Mackey.

"Look I—I could hear it in his voice, okay? There's something about all this that isn't sitting right with me," he was hissing under his breath, being careful that the ever-present news camera couldn't hear a word – despite it being a distance away. Better safe than sorry.

"You mean apart from the crazy guy with a bomb strapped to his chest?" Mackey snarled, arms folded, nostrils flared.

"But that's just it, Mackey. He isn't crazy. At least, he doesn't seem to be. There's something...when he spoke to me I—I think it's a cry for help," Deeks murmured just as he saw Callen and Sam arrive out of his peripheral vision.

"Well, excuse me Dr. Deeks, but let's just say I'll take whatever you say with a pinch of salt," he replied pointedly, exchanging a glance with the other NCIS agents, "but hey, it's your life you're risking, who am I to stand in your way?" he finished, throwing his hands up in the air.

"It has to be me," the blond insisted, trying to convince his colleagues who stared at him.

"Deeks—"

"No listen," he cut across Callen, "it has to be me that goes in there. He talked to me and only me, and asked specifically for some face time. You guys are going to be busy with clearing the area and I have experience in hostage negotiation, I—I think I can gain his trust, get him to disarm the bomb," Deeks said, his tone dripping with determination as he paced back and forth.

"And if you can't?" Sam asked, exchanging a glance with his partner.

"Then," the newly-appointed agent murmured, his tone one of reservation, "boom..."

* * *

The dark orbs of Dr. Nate Getz flickered to his old friend Kensi Blye, drinking in her tense shoulders as her eyes glued to the TV, waiting silently for any update on the case. Unfortunately, the reporter would have had better luck getting blood from a stone than she did getting a statement from any of the on-sight cops and failed to even capture any of the NCIS team on camera. It had been over an hour and a half since Kensi started watching the news and as of yet she gained nothing to give her an idea of what was going on.

Nate took a breath, saying the first thing that popped in his head to try and get her attention away from the television:

"Hey Kens, you hungry? I was thinking we could order—"

"Right, Nate, you must be starving! Should we get take-out? I've a pizza menu from the new place down the street," Kensi rambled, seemingly grateful for the distraction, before she stood up quickly, forgetting herself and hissing loudly as her skin pulled, a sharp dart of pain jabbing her in the abdomen.

"Shit..." she muttered under her breath, her hand pressing lightly to her stomach.

"Hey Kens, it's okay, I got it," Nate said gently, standing up and putting a hand on her shoulder. "You sit down; I'll go get the menus..."

Kensi stared at him, her eyes flashing with frustration. But he made sure no air of condescension could be discerned in his tone, only concern.

"You take a seat, I'll be right back," he squeezed her shoulder, before taking his phone out of his pocket and making his way into the kitchen.

He stepped towards the sink, reaching out for one of the many set of menus that were stacked up on the counter when something caught his attention. There, not two feet away from him, lay a folded jacket, a jacket that he recognized.

"Looks like Deeks forgot his jacket," he couldn't help but comment as he came back into the living room.

"How did you know it was Deeks'?" she asked curiously as he sat back down on the couch, handing her the menus.

"It's years old but is well kept. If I were to guess, I'd say he's had it since he became a rookie. It has sentimental value," Nate shrugged, handing her his phone to dial the number for the take-out.

"You got all of that from glancing at a jacket?" she asked, her tone a little disbelieving.

"Yeah," he nodded, "and I do know Deeks a little more than you might think, Kens..."

Her eyebrows rose, her teeth peeking out to chomp on her bottom lip. She didn't know why, but that statement made her a little uncomfortable.

"Was he here yesterday?" Nate continued, trying to make conversation as he noticed the metaphorical shutters behind Kensi's eyes slowly closing.

"Yeah he—he and his mom came over for dinner," she mumbled, her eyes fluttering back to the TV.

"Wow, dinner with the parents, huh? That's kinda a big deal," he smirked playfully before the smile slipped off his face, noticing how Kensi had stilled, her eyes widening, her mouth dropping open.

"Kensi what—"

Nate broke off when his followed her gaze, gaping as he realized what she was staring at.

"Is that—"

"Yep."

"Is he—"

"Yep."

There, on the thirty inch television, a tiny dot made its way up the screen, ever noticeable for the fluffy flaxen hair. It was Agent Marty Deeks, his form visible from behind as an aerial-view-camera zoomed in to where he was slowly but steadily advanced on the hotel, no body protection or any conceivable back up in sight.

"What the hell is he doing?" Nate asked, his expression a little alarmed.

But Kensi didn't reply, instead she leapt up; seemingly ignoring what must have been agonizing pain and hobbled out of the room. Nate sat frozen on the couch, stunned at her sudden movement and retreat, listening to the hurried sounds omitting from the corridor. Before he could question what is was she was doing, she shuffled back into the room with shoe-covered feet, one arm in a large, black coat, the other hanging limply at her side. Without looking at him, she very carefully slipped her other arm into the sleeve, wincing, a puff of pained air bursting from her lungs.

"Kensi what—"

She cut him off by stepping forward and wrenching his cell phone out of his hand.

Nate gaped at her brazenness while she ignored his reaction, dialling a number on the phone and holding it up to her ear. After a moment, she spoke curtly:

"Yes, I'd like a cab, please."

The psychologist was shocked into further silence as he listened to her give out her address and hang up before tossing his phone back at him and beginning to button up her coat.

"Kensi, you can't seriously be considering—"

"I need some fresh air, Nate. If I choose the block that The Regency Hotel happens to be on is my business," she interjected again, her fingers shaking a little, fumbling with the buttons.

Nate stepped forward, trying to catch her eye.

"Kensi, as a doctor—"

"A psychologist," she deadpanned as she finished buttoning up her coat.

"Yeah and as a _psychologist_," Nate pressed, "I can say that this is crazy!"

Her lips pursed at that but she merely shook her head and grabbed her bag.

"Yeah well, crazy or not Nate, my partner for some unknown and likely stupid reason is about to go into a hotel that a real crazy guy rigged with a bomb so forgive me if I'm not the epitome of rationale right now," she rambled, her hands still a little shaky.

He was a little surprised at that particular outburst. It wasn't like the Kensi he knew to offer up her emotions to him on a plate like that but it truly showed the intensity of her worry that she didn't even try to hide it. Before he could voice this however, she shook her head and rolled her eyes impatiently.

"I can't just stand here, I'm gonna wait outside. You're free to crash in the spare room. I'll see you later," she murmured, walking as fast as she could to her door.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on—" he held up his hands, snatching his belongings from off the couch and pulling on his jacket, "no way you're going alone. I'm coming too!"

She merely stared at him before ushering him impatiently to step out the now open door. He hastily complied, watching as she closed her door behind them, locking it up. With a deep breath, she turned back around; her head held high, determination etched across her face. It seemed they were paying west Los Angeles a visit.

While Nate was filled with an air of foreboding, it appeared that Kensi's mind was in one track mode. Get to the hotel. Stop Deeks from doing something stupid like going into a building that may or may not explode. And in her haste to get out of her home and to the hotel in little to no time, she didn't miss her cell phone, it still lying lonely and forgotten on her kitchen table...

* * *

Marty Deeks took a deep breath as he stepped around the side of the lavish hotel, towards the emergency exit as per Bradley's request. He knew the huge risk he was taking, could feel it in his bones, in his blood, in his heart and head but he dismissed it, pushed down the sense that he was being sent to the gallows.

_Bradley's not gonna blow the place up. I know he's not. I studied his file, his voice, his body language – he's not a cold-blooded killer...he's not._

Deeks' own voice was reverberating in his ears, trying to comfort him into believing that he had made the right decision. That his gut instinct was correct. That his experience with all different types of people from different walks of life with varying crimes over his years as a cop had helped him catalogue a system to help him identify the malicious, the sociopathic, the psychopathic...the ruthless murderer and thus leading him to conclude that Oliver Bradley wasn't one of them. That he was just a grief-ridden man desperate for justice and just needed to be talked down off the ledge, to get that push to make him realize that he wasn't that man. That he wasn't a killer. Dozens of people's lives depended on it.

_No pressure._

"Okay, I'm going in," he murmured, knowing that the com in his ear would pick up his voice, "you guys still have a visual?"

"Watching the room as we speak. Bradley is pacing, the hostages are lined around the room like before," Nell's voice sounded in his ear.

"Okay then...guess it's time to get this party started," he mumbled to himself as he reached out to open the emergency door, trying to put out of his mind the fact that he could be walking to his death.

He may not walk away from this. He may be taking his last breaths. He may never able to finally tell Kensi how he feels about her...

* * *

"Keep the change," Kensi Blye rambled, thrusting a twenty dollar bill into the taxi driver's hand before opening the door and begrudgingly taking Nate's hand to help her out of the car.

After she slowly straightened up, she pushed past her friend, her determination never wavering as she boldly wrapped her hand around the police tape, lifted it over her head so she didn't have to bend and walked into the cordoned off area as if she had every right to be there. And in a way, she did. She just hoped she wasn't too late...

"We can't get audio from the cameras?" she heard Callen's voice first as she neared a large RV, aware that nobody appeared to be paying attention to her - a bomb threat took precedent in everyone's list of priorities, she and Nate may as well be invisible, an advantage that worked for her.

"No, the only sound we got is Deeks' com," Eric replied grimly.

The brunette approached silently but she knew they sensed her presence. Slowly, Sam, Callen, Nell and Eric all turned to look at her, their expressions all identical in their shock.

"Kensi?" Eric gaped.

"Nate?" Nell gawked.

Kensi took a step towards them, her eyes travelling to each of her colleagues separately before she opened her mouth, angry, anxious words falling from her lips:

"Would somebody like to tell me why you just let Deeks walk into a bomb-rigged hotel with absolutely no back-up?!"

* * *

"You sure about this, Deeks?" Zackary Monroe's voice came from the com, directly into his ear.

"Trust me Monroe, I know what I'm doing..." Deeks whispered as he made his way towards the stage, halting at the large curtains.

"That makes one of us..." were the last words Deeks heard before he halted, listening intently for any sounds.

Taking a deep breath to psych himself up for what was about to happen, the agent called out softly to Bradley from behind the drapes.

"Oliver, it's me, Marty..."

Dead silence followed his words. Looked like Bradley wasn't going to make this easy for him...

Resigned to what he had to do, Deeks slowly reached forward and drew back the curtain, his eyes widening as he was met with quite the sight.

There, mere feet from the stage, stood dozens of people all bound together in a large line, their terrified faces directed at the man who stood in the middle of the room beside another man who sat slumped and bound in a chair.

As Deeks took another step further onto the stage, countless pairs of eyes darted towards him, some wide with shock, others with relief, others with fear and others with anticipation.

Bradley stepped in front of Hart, shielding him from view.

"GET BACK! NOW!"

Deeks stepped out of the shadows, his hands held up in surrender, inching closer to Oliver.

"I'm unarmed," he called, "it's just me Oliver, I'm by myself..." he trailed off, the small gun secretly strapped to his ankle feeling like his one and only lifeline.

The ex-Lieutenant stared at him, his dark eyes flashing dangerously.

Slowly, he raised the pistol, aiming it at Deeks' head.

"I said...get back."

Deeks held up his hands in surrender, taking a step back, his eyes never leaving the other man's.

"So...you said you wanted to talk?"

Here, Oliver's face twisted a little, his mouth smirking crookedly.

"I said a face to face was in order. I never said anything about talking..." he trailed off, shuffling towards him.

_Well, just what could he say to that?_

"Okay, if not to talk then what did you want me here for?"

Oliver tilted his head, his eyes flashing with something indistinguishable.

"Well Marty, you seemed so...confident that I wasn't going to blow this place to smithereens and harm all these innocent people...so I just thought I should tell you in person that you were right..."

Deeks' frantic heart began to slow a little.

"Really? Well that's great Oli—"

"But that's only because I've come up with a better plan," he cut across him, stepping even closer to Deeks until he was at the foot of the stairs of the stage, his dark eyes boring into him.

The blond's frantic heart quickened again as his gaze glued to the now-visible, bright-red numbers that were strapped to Bradley's chest. 1:23:09...08...07...

"And what's that?" he asked, his throat drying.

Oliver stared at him, his face still unreadable as he opened his mouth to say quietly but confidently:

"The hostages can go, but you gotta stay..."

**A/N: Wow. This chapter was difficult! :-/ I've been under a lot of stress lately and it's not my best work but I hope you liked it anyway! The next chapter is going to be the biggest in the entire story – not necessarily in word count but in content – it's what I'm affectionately calling THE ULTIMATE DENSI MOMENT :) So yeah, hope you're all looking forward to reading it as much as I am to writing it. And because I want to get into the festive mood, here's an extra special teaser for the next chapter:**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"**Please," Deeks mumbled, wiping the blood from his temple as he stared up at Bradley who had begun to sweat profusely.**

"**Please, let me make just one phone call. It's very important...there's someone out there that needs to know how much I love her."**

**Please Review =]**

**~Cortexikid x**


	34. Aphorism Part IV

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 34: Aphorism (Part IV)**

**A/N: And here it is. After a 33 chapters and an eight-month wait, the moment has come. From the bottom of my heart, I hope you enjoy it. Again, Merry Christmas Everyone :D**

**NOTE: This also ended up being incredibly longer than I thought it initially would so take breaks if needed :)**

**Disclaimer: I wish the wonderful NCIS: Los Angeles and its characters were mine but sadly, they're not...**

* * *

**WOTD: APHORISM; aph·or·is·m **_**noun**_**. Expressing a belief. Often true. **

"Kensi what the hell are you doing here?!"

The brunette merely stared past Callen, ignoring his question and hobbling further towards them, Eric's laptop in her eye line. Silently, she peered at the screen, a small gasp escaping her as she saw the blurry figure of her partner, standing perfectly still as another man pointed a gun at his head.

"What's he saying? Have you got audio? What's—"

"Excuse me!"

Kensi was cut off by a voice calling from across the parking lot. Slowly, the team turned towards it, it belonging to a tall, blond-haired flustered man who was rushing towards them.

"Sir, you can't be back here, this is a cordoned area! Sir!" Detective Rhodes was hot on his heels.

"Excuse me, are you in charge?" the man ignored Rhodes, directing his gaze at Nate who gaped at him.

"Uh..." he murmured, looking around, waiting for anyone to jump in.

"I'm Lieutenant Alex Johnson, my uh partner..." he cleared his throat, "my friend Robin Hart is in that building," he gestured to the hotel, "I—I saw the report on the news. Is it...is there really a bomb?"

Callen and Sam exchanged a quick glance.

"Lieutenant, would you happen to know a man named Oliver Bradley?" Callen asked as he stepped forward, took Alex by the elbow and led him away for a private word.

Kensi stared at the trio converse off in the distance for a moment before turning back to Eric and Nell who were still gazing at her with widened eyes.

With a wince, she trudged over to them, her orbs never leaving the small screen, glued to her partner who stood in front of a man wielding a gun and apparently talking animatedly, if his body language was anything to go by.

With a bite of her lip, Kensi turned to Nell who was still staring at her as if she couldn't quite believe she was there, asking worriedly, "what the hell is Deeks doing?"

* * *

"Uh...run that by me again?"

Marty Deeks stood perfectly still as he watched Oliver Bradley pace back and forth, growing more and more agitated.

"You heard me. The hostages can go, but you can't..." he replied pointedly, gesturing from Deeks to the scared people lined along the wall.

The agent's eyes searched the crowd until he found a familiar face, his gaze interlocking with Granger who was staring at him unblinkingly.

"Okay, me for the hostages," Deeks nodded, ignoring Granger whose face had now turned into a glare, "how about we untie them though huh—"

"They stay bound," Bradley interjected, "makes it harder for them to try anything stupid. They can leave as soon as I get one thing," he trailed off, pacing again, back and forth.

Deeks could practically see the cogs turning in his brain. He knew, could feel that Bradley was highly disorganized, powered purely by a ravenous need for revenge and frankly, that didn't bode well for any of them. A disorganized man was a dangerous, unpredictable man.

"Okay, what's the one thing?" he asked, shoving down the bile that was beginning to rise in his throat.

Bradley looked up then, straight into Deeks' eyes, before turning around and looking into the camera that hung on the top left corner of the room.

Outside, Kensi, Eric, Nell and Nate stared back, barely breathing as they waited for Bradley to say something.

"I know your friends can hear me," he spoke to Deeks without turning, his eyes still on the camera, "so, whoever's listening, this is for you..."

* * *

"Absolutely not."

"Henrietta—"

"I said no, Leon," Hetty Lange folded her arms, standing up straight as she stared at the large, flat-screen television where her boss's face could be seen, sitting at his desk in Washington.

"And what if I said that it was already done?" Director Leon Vance asked, his elbows coming to rest on his desk as his eyes trained on his computer.

"I'd say that that was a rather foolish thing for you to do," she replied without a beat, "considering that Owen has neither resigned nor ceased breathing..."

Vance stilled at her words.

"Nobody wants him to get through this more than me, Henrietta," he responded, "but, there are precautions that need to be upheld and Owen of all people—"

"I have every faith that the Deputy Director will get through this. Thus, this conversation is null and void," Hetty interrupted him, "I shall be back in touch once I get word on my team's progress. If there are any more bureaucrats that wish to waste my time, tell them I'll deal with them when there's no longer an imminent bomb threat. Always a pleasure, Director Vance," she finished, closing down the laptop and ending the video call, her eyes trained on the now blank screen.

There was surely to be hell to pay for her boldness but frankly she was on the defensive once the words 'precaution', 'precedence' and 'protocol' entered into Vance's vocabulary. She knew he was just doing his job and Owen was a close personal friend of his and he was getting pulled in every direction by the other higher ups but to ask this of her, just stung. For everyone.

Checking her watch, she grabbed her bag and made her way out. She had spent too long already stuck in meetings, on the sidelines, on the fringes of this investigation. It was time she dove in, head-first.

* * *

"This guy is crazy," Kensi gaped as she watched Bradley check the zip-ties personally on each and every one of the hostages, the timer on his chest quickly counting down the seconds ever an ominous presence: 1:10:57...56...55...

"You know, I don't think he is," Nate piped up, "I think he's just desperate."

"That's exactly what Deeks said," Eric murmured, he and Nell sharing a look.

"Yeah but...to have us record whatever the hell is gonna happen next? I mean, what for? And what does he need Deeks there for anyway if he's just letting the hostages go?" Kensi asked, frustration flashing across her face.

"Leverage," Callen replied, walking back over to them, his partner and Alex Johnson in tow.

"Tell them what you just told us, Lieutenant," the agent gestured at Johnson.

Alex's eyes widened as he paused, clearing his throat and shifting his weight from foot to foot, staring straight at the building, his mind clearly a million miles away.

"It was soon after I enlisted, one night we were all in the mess hall having dinner. Everything seemed normal for a while until a fight broke out right outside the door. It was Captain Hart and Lieutenant Bradley..." he trailed off, not meeting any of the team's eyes.

"Oliver?" Eric couldn't help but ask.

"Kevin," Alex replied, "they were really getting into it, yelling, I think he actually shoved the Captain at one point..."

Everyone's eyebrows shot up.

"Anyway, I heard a little of what they were arguing about...we all did," he paused, frowning, "it was something about some mission, Kevin was shouting it from the rooftops and this was a classified operation but he just lost it...abandoned all protocol and called Hart out on some big mistake he apparently made..." he heaved a sigh, taking a seat next to Kensi, shoulders tense, his hands clasped together tightly.

"Action was going to be taken against him, that was obvious but...but before anybody got the chance...Kevin committed suicide three days later," he finished, hanging his head.

There was a short silence as the team let that information sink in.

"So Oliver blames Hart for his brother's suicide?" Kensi asked softly, her eyes darting to the screen every few seconds to check on Deeks.

"Yeah, I think so. Seeing him die like that—"

"Wait, Oliver witnessed his brother's death?" Nate cut across him; his eyebrows knit together, his forehead crinkled with lines.

That could not be a good sign...

"Uh yeah, Oliver was in the room when Kevin killed himself, it was reported later that he was trying to talk him out of it, he nearly got shot himself when he tried to wrestle the gun out of his brother's hand," Alex murmured, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes following Kensi's to the screen and falling silent.

"That could be why Oliver let Deeks in..." Nate muttered almost to himself.

"What?" Kensi asked, not ungluing her eyes from the screen, watching intently as her partner was shoved by Bradley, over towards the hostages, the gun still pointed at his head.

"It could be why he spoke to Deeks and let him come into the building. Maybe he saw Deeks like he saw himself with Kevin, just a man trying to talk down another man from doing something drastic," Nate elaborated, gesturing at the screen.

"He doesn't have the characteristics of the typical bomber, that much is clear. He seems to be playing things by ear, his initial plan, whatever it was, has changed. His rage is focused entirely on Hart; he yells right down into his face, the hostages are almost an afterthought, like he forgets they're there. Which begs the question, why the spectacle?" the psychologist asked, looking around him.

"To get attention..." Kensi half-whispered, "that's what he wants right? He wants to draw attention not only to himself, but Hart too and what does that better than a bomb threat? He wants us to record when he tells us to so...maybe he's looking for a confession?"

Before anyone could offer a response to that, Oliver turned and stared directly up into the camera. Eric clicked the buttons so they could hear through Deeks' com as Callen, Sam and Lieutenant Johnson stepped nearer.

"Looks like," Callen murmured, arms folded tensely, "we're about to find out..."

* * *

Ex-Lieutenant Oliver Bradley shoved the blond man towards the hostages, keeping the gun pointed directly at his forehead.

"So Marty...is it detective or agent? You may not be LAPD, but you're definitely something," he remarked, glaring at Deeks as he stepped in front of a young girl, no more than fourteen, shielding her from view and Bradley's potentially explosive temper.

"Uh..." he murmured, looking Bradley dead in the eye, wanting to have his full attention, "I suppose now it's Agent."

"Now?" Bradley asked, ignoring the sniffling coming from the petrified hostages.

"Well, I recently had a career change," Deeks continued, feeling the eyes of the Deputy Director boring into him, hoping that opening up a little would build even more of a rapport with Oliver.

"And I'm your first case? I'm flattered," the ex-lieutenant deadpanned before turning his back to Deeks.

After a second, he clicked his fingers, rolling his eyes as if he was irritated with himself.

"Oh do me a favor and hand over the gun you have strapped to your ankle," he smirked.

Deeks' heart thudded in his chest. He could feel Granger's glare become even fiercer.

"I know you Agent types are always packin' Marty...good thing I like you or I would have blown your brains out for lying to me..." he grinned as Deeks unstrapped his gun and threw it to him.

Oliver stared at it in his hands for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly and flinging it into his camera bag before turning on his heel and addressing Captain Hart who sat, bolt upright in the chair, his eyes on the floor.

"You're being awfully quiet, old man," he stepped closer, pistol now pointed at Hart's chest, "you haven't said a word since I got here, in fact. Nothing but pleas, 'please let the hostages go', 'please don't hurt my family.' You got anything else to contribute to all this before we get the show on the road?" he hissed, coming right down into Hart's face, spit landing on his cheek.

Hart's jaw clenched, his eyes shining like steel as he glared up into the younger man's face, not remotely fazed.

"The show?" he asked quietly.

"Oh yeah," Oliver waved theatrically, spinning around and making his way over to the corner of the room, staring straight up into the camera and addressing the people he knew to be listening from outside.

"Hey cops...feds...whoever you are, listen up. As a sign of good faith as your buddy Agent Marty here so eloquently put it, I'm gonna let most of the hostages go," he paused, as if waiting for the team to reply.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marty go still.

"Is Big Brother paying attention?" he asked firmly before turning back to the camera.

"Yeah," Deeks nodded as he heard Nell assure him that they did, "they're listening."

Oliver nodded, bouncing on his heels.

"Alrighty then, well, like I was saying...as a sign of good faith, I'm lettin' most of the hostages go, on one condition," he paused again before clearing his throat.

Deeks almost rolled his eyes at his theatrics.

"Like I said before, I want you on my say-so to record the happenings inside this room. Once I'm assured that that will happen, I'll let the first half go..."

The tension in the room was thick enough that a chainsaw would have trouble cutting through it.

Deeks' ears perked up as he waited for someone to reply.

Outside, Callen looked to Nell and Eric as the rest of the team plus Nate and Johnson waited with bated breath.

"We can make copies of the hotel's footage, right?"

Nell nodded, "yeah, but only the visual, the only audio we have is Deeks' com..."

A sickening feeling rose in Kensi's stomach. She gestured to Nell to cut the communication with Deeks for a moment. With a frown, the tech-analyst complied and turned to her.

"What's up?" she asked quietly.

"Get Deeks to give Bradley his com. That way, we can hear everything he says and give him what he wants. You can record the audio from the ear-bud, right?"

Eric and Nell exchanged a glance.

"Yeah, it's doable," the former nodded, "but should Deeks really go radio-silent?"

A shadow passed over Kensi's face as she realized just what that meant. They would be able to hear everything in the room, but Deeks wouldn't be able to hear them...

"He knows what he's doing," she said, her voice sounding far more confident than she felt.

Her nerve endings felt like they were on fire. This could go wrong, very, very wrong.

A silence descended on the team for a moment as each member deliberated silently.

"Okay Nell, un-mute us," Callen ordered, staring at Eric's small-screen laptop, half of their colleague's body still in the frame.

"Deeks, can you hear us?" he asked, watching as the newly-appointed agent's body stiffened before offering a slight nod.

"Good, okay, give Bradley your com," he instructed, watching as one half of Deeks' face began to frown.

"That way we can still hear everything that's going on, record it and talk to him at the same time," Callen explained, "tell him it's the only way he can get what he wants..."

Kensi watched as Deeks cleared his throat, stepping a little towards Bradley. She tried to shove down the portentous feeling that she had just signed his death warrant.

"You won't be able to hear us Deeks...you got this?" Sam asked as they all watched him reach up to his ear and pause, his hand stilling.

"Trust me, I'm an agent," he breathed under his breath with a cheeky wink to the camera before taking the com out of his ear.

Kensi's heart thumped in her chest. She knew he was just trying to be reassuring but she could sense his nervousness. She wished she could let him know she was here but...he needed to focus, it was better if he still thought she was safely back home.

"Oliver..." they heard Deeks' voice, a little quieter than before as they watched him outreach his hand towards the ex-Lieutenant, "my team want you to have this..."

Bradley stared at it suspiciously, before his eyes darted up the blond.

"You're giving me your only form of communication to the outside world, Marty?" he asked, not sure if he was being played or if this guy was just exceptionally stupid.

"Call it a sign of good faith," Deeks replied, nodding to the bud in the palm of his hand.

Bradley stared at his hand, eyes narrowed before nodding, as if winning an inner-battle with himself and took the bud from the agent and deftly placed it into his ear, clearing his throat.

"Let's just hope," he began, his gaze trained on Deeks, "that whoever is taking the reins is as courteous as you Marty; otherwise we may have a problem..."

* * *

_Three Weeks Earlier..._

The shrill sound of an alarm clock shook awake one Mr. Oliver Bradley from his fitful sleep. Tiredly, he let out a groan, rolling over and shutting it off, his eyes still tightly shut. He had had a long night, re-working his résumé, trying everything and anything he could to land a job. So far, he'd tried out for a fry-cook, a waiter at an Italian restaurant, a cashier, a telemarketer...but he just couldn't keep any of them for long. His mind was going numb, his body aching from underuse, he needed something more physical, more challenging, something he could be passionate about...

He loved photography.

He always had, ever since he was a little boy. He and his brother Kevin would always go hiking back home, the higher the better and he'd always remember to take his trusty camera so he could get some shots of Kevin acting like an idiot in front of a glorious sunset or some foraging squirrels...his younger brother had thought it was stupid, had made fun of him for it at first. But after a while, when he saw the wonderful pictures Oliver had taken and how happy it made him, he stopped, had supported his dream of being a world-renowned photographer.

That is, until their father insisted that they enlist.

Their lives changed forever that day. They, two boys from Indiana with barely eighteen months between their ages, were shipped off, neither looking back for years...

But now, everything had changed once again. Ever since that day—Oliver winced as he thought about it, staring up at his bedroom ceiling—ever since the day his brother committed suicide, ever since he left the Navy, the only thing he wanted (apart from revenge) was to pursue his dream of photography.

So, when he grieved and hit rock bottom and decided it was time to pick himself back up, he enrolled himself this time into a photography night class at the Community College, using the money he scraped together from his odd jobs to pay for it. And that time had been the most enjoyable he'd had in years. He had training now. So, it was time to put that experience to work and find a job, a photography gig.

With a determined nod, Oliver sat up, swung his legs over the side of his bed and pushed out all the negative thoughts, all the bad memories from his past life and vowed that today was the day that he found himself something to start him off in his new career. Today was the first day of the rest of his life...

Suddenly, he heard the sound of mail being pushed under his door, right on time as usual. With a frown, he wondered what it could be now; it seemed all he got these days were bill after bill: electric, gas, his mom's retirement home...

With aching bones, he shuffled out of his room and down the corridor. He made a mental note to feed Heisenberg, his Blue-Freckled Cichlid fish, as he passed by the tank. Stifling a yawn and stretching his arms over his head, he made his way into the kitchen to put on some coffee. It was just as he was buttering some toast that he decided to stop delaying the inevitable and go get the damn mail already. Mrs McGregor was so kind to pick it up from down stairs for him, there was no point ignoring it any longer.

Heaving a sigh, he padded out towards the door, seeing a quite large, folded manila envelope lying on the floor.

_Mrs McGregor must have had a hard time getting that out of the mail slot...would that even fit in the mail slot?_

It was then when he turned it over and realized that there was no address written on it. It just had his name, in large, bold, black-ink letters across the middle...

**MR. OLIVER RYAN BRADLEY**

"Weird," Oliver grumbled under his breath, suddenly feeling the need to sit down, a wave of unease washing over him as he slowly made his way over to the couch and sank down into it.

With fumbling fingers, he held the envelope out in front of him, staring at it for a moment before making a snap-decision and quickly but carefully ripping it open.

His eyes widened as three different pieces of paper dropped into his lap. Silently, he picked up the first one, an involuntary gasp escaping from his lungs as his eyes landed on the face of a man he hadn't seen for years and never wanted to see again...Captain Patrick Hart.

Gaping, he stared at the black and white photo of the casually-dressed man smoking a pipe on what appeared to be his own home's porch.

_What the hell?_

Shaking his head, Oliver shuffled the papers and read the second piece.

It was a4 in size, with just two short sentences typed in the center.

**HANK'S GYM, LOCKER 947**

**YOU'LL FIND WHAT YOU NEED THERE**

His heart thumping in his chest at the endless possibilities, he took out the last piece of paper, this one having a little weight to it. With a bite of his lip, he realized that was because there was a key marked 947 taped to the page, it only containing the words:

**BE QUICK ABOUT IT**

Before he could properly process what was happening (or he could talk himself out of it) Oliver bolted to his room, threw on some clothes, grabbed his keys, the pieces of paper and slammed the door shut behind him.

There was no way he was passing this up...whatever 'this' was...

What should have been a twenty minute drive took him nine he broke that many traffic laws. As Hank's Gym came within his sight, he swerved into an empty parking spot, grabbed the envelope and exited, barely remembering to lock his car before he bolted into the gym, the small key digging roughly into the palm of his hand. With wild eyes, he ignored the gym-enthusiasts and headed straight for the lockers. With hurried but cautious steps (not wanting to draw too much attention to himself) he searched the lines of small, metal boxes until his eyes landed on 947.

With a shaking hand, he reached out with the key and shoved it in the lock, turning it quickly. Bracing himself (for what he wasn't sure) he took a deep breath before he swung the door open, frowning as he saw a small bag with another piece of paper taped to it.

**IN HERE YOU'LL FIND EXACTLY WHAT YOU NEED TO DO WHAT WE BOTH KNOW YOU'VE WANTED TO DO FOR A VERY LONG TIME.**

**KEEP THE PHONE TOO. I WILL BE IN TOUCH WITH FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.**

His frown deepening, Oliver pocketed the paper before glancing around him, making sure that nobody was paying attention to him before he shakily opened the bag, nearly dropping it in shock as his eyes landed on what was inside.

There, sitting comfortably in the bottom of the bag beside a black burner phone, was a small, silver pistol...

* * *

_Present_

"Mr Bradley, this is NCIS Special Agent G Callen," the agent said clearly, watching as the ex-lieutenant stilled, his attention peaked.

"NCIS huh? So Marty here is one of you?" he asked, his eyes turning back to Deeks who took his place in front of the young girl, his hands hanging loosely at his sides as he pondered what the team were saying to Bradley.

"Yeah, he's one of us," Callen confirmed as he and Kensi exchanged a glance, worried what that confirmation would cause.

"Huh, he doesn't look like an agent," Bradley scoffed, his orbs raking up and down Deeks' form.

"Then again," he mused quietly before Callen could respond, "he doesn't look much like a cop either..."

Deeks smirked, "well, I look like a cop and I get dead so...this look works for me."

"I get that," Bradley nodded, a not entirely unpleasant expression crossing his face.

Callen and the rest of the team watched this exchange.

Nate, murmuring softly so the tech wouldn't pick up his voice, leaned into Kensi's space:

"Deeks has built a rapport with him; I think he might be able to do this..."

Callen waited a beat to see if Oliver was going to stir back the conversation. When he didn't, he decided he would move things along.

"So Mr Bradley, how do you wanna do this?

* * *

_19 Days Earlier..._

It had been two days now. Two days he had this phone and the pistol that remained hidden in the small, black bag in his closet. Two full days and the phone hadn't made a sound. There were no numbers, no messages; nothing programmed into it, nothing to give him any indication what was going on.

He had been staring at it almost every second of those two days, falling into fitful, warped dreams only to snap awake, startled, ringing in his ears but never did it come from the cell phone. It was weighing on his nerves, his last nerve in fact. Perhaps it was just some sick joke? An old Navy colleague? Someone he pissed off in the past? Jesus, that could be anyone...

"Well, Heisenberg," he sighed, standing up and turning his back to where the offending object lay, staring at his fish tank, "looks like it's just—"

The shrill ring of the cell phone cut him off abruptly. With widened eyes, he whirled back around, stumbling to the coffee table and snatching up the phone, not pausing to take a breath before he pressed the button.

"H-Hello?" he stammered, suddenly incredibly nervous.

"Oliver Bradley?" a robotic voice, clearly disguising the caller's true tone, wafted into his ear.

"Uh...yeah...who are you? What—what do you want?" he asked, trying and failing to sound confident.

"Well, as for your first question, let's just say I'm a concerned acquaintance. As for your second? I'd say it's rather obvious what I want...or should I say, what you want..."

Oliver gaped, the words sticking in his throat. The voice continued as if he had responded.

"Captain Patrick Hart will be outside The Regency Hotel at 9am on December 17th. He will be unarmed. The pistol is unregistered and untraceable. I don't think I have to tell you to be discreet, get in, get it done, and get out. There will be one-hundred-thousand dollars wired into your bank account for your trouble. Nice doing business with you Mr. Bradley—"

"Wait! Wait! Don't hang up..." Oliver cut across the voice, "please, just...tell me why—"

"You aren't the only one that wants Patrick Hart to die Mr. Bradley. But, seen as I'm not in the position to do it myself, I see that this is an adequate way. I get what I want, you get what you want and a cash bonus...everybody wins..."

The click indicated that whoever it was had hung up. Oliver listened to the dial tone for a few moments before slowly lowering the phone from his ear.

Maybe his wish of becoming a world-renowned photographer hadn't come true yet, but his wish for revenge sure was sure as hell on its way...

* * *

_Present_

Oliver Bradley advanced on the small, fourteen girl, blade in hand. The girl's dark eyes widened, her breathing hitched, fear written across her face.

"Oliver..." Deeks warned gently, "maybe it would be better if I did it?"

The ex-Lieutenant halted on his descent, the blade lowering to his side.

"Okay Marty, if you insist," he murmured, flipping the blade so that the handle faced Deeks.

The agent stared at it for a moment, finding it comforting that Oliver trusted him enough to give him a weapon, or maybe it was just that he didn't think he was stupid enough to attack a man with a bomb strapped to his chest...either way, it was a good sign.

Slowly, Deeks leaned down to the girl's level and looked her straight in the eye, offering her a soft smile.

"Hey sweetheart, this won't hurt a bit I promise, just keep your hand still for me," he murmured, lifting the knife and slipping it through the wrists of the young girl and the older woman she was bound to until it fell away.

"I'm sorry ma'am, it's only the first half for now, but I promise, it won't be long," he mumbled softly to the older woman before taking the young girl's hand and beginning to walk slowly towards the emergency exit, every bound person from the first half of the hostages following behind in a long, single-filed line.

Owen Granger watched from his position, one of his hands bound to the older woman who now had free right hand. The newly-appointed agent was so far doing a good job in keeping the situation relatively calm. The Deputy Director had been observing Bradley for over two hours now and couldn't help but notice that the man seemed to be waiting for something, almost casually, as if time weren't literally working against them. He hoped that Deeks or the rest of the NCIS team had picked up on this as he didn't want to jeopardize himself.

Meanwhile, Deeks was halting at the emergency exit, hoping that Monroe was still in position, ready to escort the hostages out. He had been quiet for the last while, but Deeks knew he was just being cautious. With Bradley securely in his peripheral vision, Deeks took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping back and gesturing for the young teenager to take the first step out.

"Go on, it's okay," he murmured, a small smile forming on his face as she nodded her thanks and took a few steps, her shoulders sagging in relief as she was hit with a breath of fresh air.

Off in the near distance, Deeks could see Monroe beginning to lead the hostages to safety. He offered him a nod before taking another step forward, waiting on the last person to step over the threshold. When they did, he leaned over and closed the emergency door.

"There," Bradley called, walking back over to stand under the camera, "half of the hostages are free. Now, am I gonna get my recording?"

Outside, Callen and the rest of the team watched as Monroe lead the twenty-five people towards the police tape. Once they had settled and begun to get their ties cut off, Callen replied:

"Yeah, you'll get your recording..."

He gestured to Nell to hit mute button for a moment. She did and she, Kensi and Eric all turned to catch the eye of everybody else.

"Question is," Kensi began, knowing why Callen was suddenly frowning, "what happens after he gets his recording?"

After a beat of silence, a familiar voice omitted from behind them.

"No, Ms Blye, the real question is, what is an out-of-commission agent doing at an active crime scene?"

Hetty Lange always did have impeccable timing...

* * *

It was the fifth time since he got here that Oliver Bradley checked his watch. It hadn't escaped his attention that this was a little drawn out, almost like he was...waiting. He wanted to question him about it and figured now was as good a time as any. He had just let half of the hostages go, the plan, whatever it was, was about to enter in to the next stage, so he may as well take advantage of that...

"One hour, two minutes and thirty-four seconds..." he called out, reading the timer that was steadily counting down.

Oliver turned to him, frowning before glancing down at his chest.

"You're right Marty; I better get a move on. Don't want to blow this place up before I get a chance to prove to the world just how much of monstrous bastard Captain Patrick Hart is..." he replied, ignoring Deeks' grimaced as his plan backfired, a spring in his step as he leaned down into Hart's face, gripping his silver hair and reefing his head back as far as he could to force him to look right up into his ears.

Hart barely winced at the pain or the sniffling from his wife and grandsons and the shouts of protest from his daughters. He merely sat back and let his gaze fall upon the man's face, a man that had once been a boy so full with pride for what he did, a boy with so much potential...

"You guys getting all this, Callen?"

"Loud and clear," the agent replied instantly from outside as he exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Hetty.

She wasn't particularly thrilled at Kensi's presence if her steely orbs and set mouth were anything to go by, but ultimately knew it was futile and a waste of time they didn't have to try and get her to leave. So, they all stood around the small fold-up table as Kensi, Eric and Nell sat, each and every gaze now on the large television screen that Eric commandeered from the RV, recording every second of the happenings in the function room of The Regency Hotel.

"Good..." Bradley murmured, running a blade lightly over Hart's throat, "because the good Captain here is going to tell us all a little story..."

Marty Deeks tried so hard to focus entirely on Bradley and his tirade on Hart but his attention kept getting caught by the soft sniffling coming from where Hart's family sat, the two young boys in particular.

They couldn't be any more than five and seven years old, if he were to guess. Each had large, tear drops falling from their eyes, their mother trying her best to shield them from the scene but they could still peek through, their little faces still seen, staring intently at their grandfather with a knife to his throat.

It was a sight that no child should ever see.

"Stop."

The word flew from his lips before he could stop it.

Outside, the team waited with bated breath.

"What the hell is he doing?" Sam muttered, looking to his partner.

"It's the kids," Kensi whispered, her eyes glued to Deeks, "he doesn't want them to see whatever happens next..."

"The boys," Deeks continued, his feet carrying him over to Oliver on their own accord, his brain scrambling to keep up, "please don't make them watch this, Oliver. Please. They have so much of their childhood left; don't take that from them..."

The blade on Hart's throat shook, Bradley's hand quivering so much that he dropped the blade, it crashing to the floor, it echoing around the room. His shoulders sunk, his entire face changing, his eyes travelling to the two young boys for the very first time, as if now only noticing their presence, sitting on the floor, huddled against their mother. Something broke in Bradley then, Deeks could see that. A dimness rose in his dark eyes, a...sadness. He was clearly no longer in the room, lost on memory lane, his mind no doubt thinking of his own brother...

Suddenly, Hart jumped, his hands inexplicably free from their ties, his left fist flinging out and connecting roughly with Bradley's jaw.

Deeks could only gape as the once-distracted Oliver was harshly spat back into reality by a bone-crunching punch to the face.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?! HE HAS A BOMB!" one of the hostages yelled, struggling against his bonds, chatter lowly rising between the people like the buzzing of angry bees.

Before anyone could reply, Oliver's own fist shot out and swung at Hart's jaw, smashing into it with enough force to knock the Captain from his seat, his body landing on the floor with a loud thump.

"NOW LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!" he shouted down at Hart, spit flying from his mouth, his eyes wild.

Deeks stepped forward, his hands rising at his sides.

"Oliver...Oliver it—"

"GET THEM OUTTA HERE! NOW!" he yelled, whirling on Deeks and pointing at Hart's family.

"IN FACT," he paused, turning on the spot and pointing at the other hostages lined along the wall, "GET THEM ALL OUTTA HERE!"

Deeks' eyebrows rose in shock.

"Oliver—"

"I thought I needed an audience, but you'll do. The whole world will know the truth soon anyway. There's no point in torturing innocent people any longer...it makes me no better than him..." Bradley murmured, his voice almost one of defeat.

"Go on!" he hissed, still looking down at Hart but talking to Deeks before turning his attention to the camera, "you heard me Callen, you're gettin' the rest of your damn hostages now!"

There was an eruption of noise as the rest of the hostages left their relief be heard.

"SHUT UP! NOT A DAMN WORD FROM ANY OF YOU OR I SWEAR..." he let his threat trail off, nobody needing any more description.

A silence descended on the room as Deeks took action, doing precisely as he did before, this time taking the older woman's hand from before and leading her to the door. After a beat, he opened the door and ushered her through, catching Monroe's eye.

Owen Granger paused in the doorway, a silent understanding passing between him and Deeks before he was forcefully pulled by the woman in front of him and pushed by the person behind him. The afternoon sun felt good on his face...

Outside, the NCIS team watched quietly as Monroe lead the other bound hostages over to where the initial half still stood getting debriefed by LAPD, their Deputy Director clearly seen in the crowd.

Deeks waited until the last bound hostage passed through the door before letting it close, turning on his heel and making his way over to Hart's family.

"Patrick! Patrick!" Mrs Elizabeth Hart was sobbing, her eyes trained on her husband who still lay on the floor.

"Ma'am," Deeks murmured gently, patting her elbow, "ma'am please, come with me, I need to get you to—"

"I'm not leaving without my husband!" she snarled, reefing her elbow away from Deeks as if scalded.

At a loss of what to do, the agent looked to the two Hart daughters, Robin in particular.

"Mom..." Robin spoke softly, nodding at Deeks before turning to her mother, "Marie and the boys need you now. Please...go...I'll stay with Daddy..."

Outside, Kensi heard Lieutenant Alex Johnson gasp.

"No! She can't!" he hissed, looking at the screen helplessly as his friend offered to stay in the building, unaware of the team of people around him, staring.

"Robin..." Marie murmured, looking to her little sister with wide, terrified eyes.

"Go, bring the boys..." Robin urged, helping her mom stand up, "Marty here will escort you to the door," she paused before dropping her voice to a whisper so Bradley couldn't hear, "we'll see you both soon..." she finished before hugging them tightly.

Reluctantly, they broke apart and the two Hart women and the little boys followed Deeks to the door, he reaching out to open it, nodding to Monroe once again, catching sight of Sam off in the distance, helping tend to the hostages.

Marie went through first, holding on to each boy's hand, nodding to Deeks in thanks. Elizabeth watched her daughter step out into the dim sunlight for a moment before suddenly gripping Deeks' arm, leaning in, her eyes wide and full with fresh tears, her voice shaking as she whispered:

"He's sick..." before pushing a pill bottle discreetly into his hand and bolting out the door, racing after her daughter, it evident that she was forcing herself not to look back.

Deeks subtly slipped the pill bottle into his jeans pocket before closing the door and turning on his heel, prepared to face the situation once again.

"What was that?" Kensi asked quietly, having seen the interaction, but just barely as it was nearly out of camera range, "what did she say to him?"

Nell shrugged, "the com didn't pick it up...it was too quiet but, it looked like she gave him something..."

Back inside, Deeks made his way over to Robin, sitting down beside her, listening intently as Hart spluttered on the floor, trying to catch his breath. Good. That meant he was still alive...

"So..." he murmured, staring up at Bradley, "what now?"

* * *

It had been a great plan. Fantastic, even. Beautiful in its simplicity. He would just show up at The Regency Hotel at 9am on December 17th, pose as a casual passerby as Hart's car pulled up outside and when it did, he'd shoot the bastard right between the eyes. The panic of hearing gunshots, would be enough to provide him an easy get-away, he could then ditch his dark jacket, sunglasses and hat and blend right back into the crowd, a new man.

It was the perfect crime.

But he just had to go and see that damn invitation.

Everything had been arranged, had been honed down to the finest detail up until then. He had an entry point and an exit strategy and it was wonderful. But, as soon as he realized why it was that Captain Patrick Hart was going to be in The Regency Hotel in the first place, all rational thought went out the window.

He was actually getting a_ ceremony in his honor_?

The man that caused so much pain and didn't own up to it?

No. Hell no. Not if he had anything to do with it...

So, he devised a new plan with telling Mr Mysterious Phone Guy. It may be more complex, messier, but at least, this way, justice would be done. When he was finished, the whole world would know that Patrick Hart was a murderer of an innocent young woman and caused the suicide of an innocent young man.

And then Oliver Bradley could be at peace.

* * *

"Time's nearly up Hart, so how's about you start talkin' huh? I promised NCIS you'd tell them a story and I'm a man of my word," the ex-Lieutenant murmured into Hart's ear as he lifted him up back into his seat, leaving his hands untied. He wasn't stupid enough to try and attack him again.

"Come on Captain, you tell the world what it needs to know, and maybe, just maybe, I let your little girl live..." he hissed, running the blade along his captive's jaw, his eyes trained on Robin.

"I don't...negotiate with terrorists..." Hart gasped.

Bradley erupted in laughter then, hysterical, manic laughter. Deeks and Robin exchanged a worried glance as they watched him begin to pace in front of them.

"I may look like a terrorist Hart but...I don't mess with innocent people's lives," he smiled, jabbing the blade through the air.

"You have a bomb with enough C4 to take out four blocks strapped to your chest and you don't think that's messing with innocent people's lives?" Hart responded, having regained his breath, his voice steely.

Oliver chuckled, peeling open his jacket, a remote-control detonator visibly attached to the inside of his chest-pocket visible again.

Deeks gasped. _He had that all along?!_

Outside, the NCIS exchanged anxious glances, Kensi biting her bottom lip. The stakes were just irrevocably raised.

"Theatrics," Oliver dismissed with a wave before pausing pensively, "what was it you always said, Captain? If your enemy is large, fool them into thinking you're larger?"

Deeks frowned at that, wondering if the team were thinking along the same lines as he.

"Not all of that C4 is real, is it?" Hart apparently jumped to the same conclusion.

"No," Oliver shook his head, a smirk playing about his lips, "just enough, though. Enough to bring down this one hotel with you, me, the good agent and your beautiful daughter and really...Captain...isn't that enough?"

At Hart's silence, he continued:

"Now, I could have told you about the detonator earlier but...I figure, what was the point? A count-down is always more dramatic isn't it? It really gives you time to think...to reflect...but you know what Hart? I'm done giving you time. You either start talking right now or I press this button and blow this place to smithereens, count-down or no count-down..." he trailed off, letting his jacket close.

"Bradley," Callen chimed in, "you don't—"

"You know, Agent Callen, it's been nice and all but I'm done with you being in my ear..." he said before plucking out the com and placing it on the table beside him.

"Now, I know you can still hear everything so, we'll carry on if you don't mind..."

Deeks stared at the com, then at the camera, an ominous feeling rising in his gut. The atmosphere had shifted in the room, it appeared as if Bradley had reached the end of his tether, no longer wanting to listen to reason...that was not good.

"I think I've been patient enough Captain," he said, stepping towards Deeks and Robin, "but an imminent bomb count-down doesn't seem to be fazing you so let's try another tactic—"

He pounced, catching Robin by the throat and holding the knife up against her flesh, digging it in to near piercing point.

"No!" Hart hissed.

"Yes," Bradley nodded as Deeks' brain whirled with possibilities, frantically trying to think of a way out of this.

Suddenly, words just started falling from his lips:

"Oliver, I know what it's like, man. To have someone you look up to, someone you respect let you down so much. I was a cop for ten years, worked shoulder to shoulder with what I thought were good men, only to find out that one of them helped cover up the murder of my friend..." he trailed off, his brain reeling a mile a minute.

Bradley stilled.

"And what did you do?"

Deeks' mouth opened and closed for a moment, he feeling oddly like a fish.

"Well I—I didn't do anything like this...my team and I got the two men responsible and threw them in jail..."

Oliver laughed again, it as hearty as last time.

"You think I didn't think of that, genius? But they just covered it up...he and his other Navy buddies. It makes me sick. Kevin knew, knew that you were responsible for Medina's death but you still sit there denying it, even when I have a blade to your own daughter's throat...just how important is your precious career to you, Hart? Just how far do I have to go to get you to give up the ghost, huh? HOW FAR?!" he roared, dragging the blade across Robin's collar-bone forcefully, it leaving a fresh crimson trail in its wake.

"STOP!" Hart and Deeks yelled in unison as Robin cried out in pain, her hand clasped over her wound.

Oliver did stop. He froze, in fact. Staring down at Robin as if he had no idea what just happened. A shadow passed over his face, one of horror and deep shame...

"I never wanted it to come to this, you know..." he whispered, catching Deeks' eye, his orbs shining with unshed tears.

"I've been angry for such a long time. At my brother, at Hart...at myself. And I'm not gonna lie Marty, part of me is enjoying making this bastard suffer. But I never wanted it to come to this. Not really. I guess...I was blinded by revenge and I knew there was other way but this to get him to admit what he did..." he mumbled, glancing to Hart whose head was hung lowly.

"Okay..." the Captain sighed, raising his head, his eyes gluing to his daughter that Deeks was now tending to, "just please, don't hurt my daughter, don't hurt either of them...I—I'll tell you what you need to know..."

* * *

_Five Years Earlier..._

He couldn't get it out of his mind. Two large, green eyes, full to the brim with tears, they streaming down her rose cheeks in quick succession as she sobbed and sobbed.

"I'm so sorry for your loss Mrs Bradley," he murmured softly, offering her another tissue.

"T-Thank you..." she stuttered, nodding politely and taking the tissue from him.

"You-you say that my boy...my Kevin he...committed suicide?" she whispered, her large, olive eyes lowered to the floor.

"Yes ma'am, it's such a tragedy..." he replied, a frown creasing his eyebrows.

"And—and Oliver? When—when can I bring him home?" she asked, her gaze hopeful as she blew her nose.

"He's still in the infirmary Mrs Bradley, he—he's in shock. You can take him home as soon as he's feeling up to it and we sign off on all his paperwork. I—he is being Honorably Discharged..."

The elder woman gasped at that.

"What—what for? Oliver loves the Navy he-he's a good—"

"Your son has had a wondrous career here Mrs Bradley but...in light of recent events we...deem it necessary that Lieutenant Bradley step down from his Naval duties...I'm afraid that's all I can divulge."

_And that's that._

Another twenty minutes later, Captain Patrick Hart finally waved Mrs Bradley off, offering his condolences once again before shutting his door gently. Slowly, he stepped back over to his desk and sat down, massaging his temples with his hands.

The headaches had been getting steadily worse. It was only a matter of time now before they got so bad that he'd have to step down...perhaps that was for the best. After everything that had happened in the last few weeks, he wasn't sure he wanted to do this job anymore.

Before he could properly dwell on that depressing thought, his old friend John Klein let himself into his office.

"I saw Mrs Bradley," he said as a means of hello, "how did it go?"

Patrick heaved a sigh, waving for Klein to take a seat.

"About as bad as I thought it would. She's such a sweet woman...I can't help but think—"

"Patrick," John's warning tone interjected, "you can't keep going over this. You made a judgement call...you sent in those men because that's where Zaid was. Because of you, our men tore apart a terrorist cell—"

"Because of me, a young, innocent woman working for the Peace Corps was killed!" Hart hissed, thumping his desk in frustration.

"Collateral damage is a part of the job Patrick," Klein murmured, stricken by his friend's outburst.

"She was a young, American woman trying to make a difference and because of a case of mistaken identity, she was gunned down. Because I mistakenly identified her as one of Zaid's and gave them the green light to..." he trailed off, burying his face in his hands.

"Kramer took care of it...it was ruled an accident, neither you nor the Navy is liable..." Klein replied.

"Don't you get it?" Hart murmured into his hands, "I didn't want Kramer to 'take care of it.' That poor woman's family will never be the same because of me! She was Robin's age John she—she had her whole life ahead of her and...Kevin Bradley—he loved her. He knows what really happened and that's...that's why he did what he did. So, not only am I responsible for an innocent civilian's death but I'm also to blame for my own Lieutenant's death and my other Lieutenant's dismissal all because this damn tumor mixes me up!" he hissed, pushing papers and books and stationary off his desk in anger.

They both watched as they crashed to the floor.

After a moment's silence, Hart whispered:

"I should have resigned as soon as I got the diagnosis. I should have taken the mediation at least. But I didn't...and now two innocent people are dead and countless other's lives ruined..."

* * *

_Present_

Marty Deeks, Robin Hart, Oliver Bradley, the NCIS team, Nate Getz and Alex Johnson all stared at Patrick Hart as he finished telling the tale, hanging his head in shame.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered to the floor.

Oliver stared at him, frozen on the spot as he finally heard the words he'd waited half a decade to hear.

"Kevin he...he loved her so much. She was half-American half-Iraqi so she said she wanted to join the Peace Corps from when she was a kid. She was a beautiful, smart, amazing woman and she's dead because of you..." he said softly, his eyes glued to his old superior.

"Yes," Patrick Hart nodded.

"And my brother...he confronted you, realized it was a lost cause, he could never prove what really happened. He was in so much pain, lost the woman he loved and killed himself because of you..." Oliver continued just as softly.

"Yes," Hart nodded again.

"And I lost my career, years of my life and did all of this because of you..." Oliver finished, dropping the blade stained with Robin's blood on the floor.

"Yes," the Captain gave one final nod.

A silence engulfed the room. You could hear a pin drop, nobody dared breathe.

With a bite of his lip, Oliver turned on his heel and walked over to where the ear bud was left on the table. Slowly, he picked it up and put it back in his ear.

"You guys get all that?" he asked, glancing up at the camera.

The NCIS team stared back at him on the television screen, still shocked by Hart's confession.

"Yeah Bradley," Callen said after a moment, "we got it..."

At that confirmation, Oliver nodded, satisfied, picked the com out of his ear and nonchalantly dropped it on the hard-wood floor.

The team grimaced at the screeching noise.

"We still got audio?" Sam asked.

"Barely..." Eric replied as everybody turned their attention back to the screen.

Bradley stared at the com on the ground for a moment before glancing once again at his watch.

"That call isn't coming Oliver..." Patrick murmured suddenly, looking up and staring straight into his eyes.

"What?" he gaped, "how did you—"

"It isn't coming...because you didn't stick to the plan," Hart continued, anger shining in his eyes.

"It was simple...walk up, shoot me between the eyes, walk away. Tell me, what was so damn difficult about that?!"

Deeks and Robin gaped between the two of them, not knowing what was happening. It was if Hart was morphing into another person right before their very eyes.

"Oh no..." Robin mumbled under her breath as she pressed Deeks' make-shift bandage he made from a piece off his shirt to her chest.

"What?" Deeks whispered to her, "what's—"

"I mean," Hart stood up suddenly, with such force that it knocked the chair over, "how inept do you have to be to fail at a simple execution? You were in the Navy for Christ's sake!"

Oliver gasped, a look of realization passing across his face.

"What is he talking about, Oliver?" Deeks asked, feeling like he was trying to complete a puzzle with a few pieces missing.

"I'm not...I'm not the only one that wants him dead. They—they're the ones that started all this...they used me," Bradley replied, not looking at Deeks, his eyes glued to Hart.

"Who used you?"

"The guy on the phone. He knew my hatred for Hart and used it against me. Used it to make me do his dirty work for him."

"Somebody hired you to kill Patrick Hart?"

"Yeah. I was supposed to shoot him between the eyes before he got to the ceremony but...I thought I'd add my own flair. I wasn't letting the bastard die so easily, not without exposing him...how—you knew the whole time?" he asked Hart, his eyes wide with shock.

Now it was the Captain's turn to laugh, although to everyon'es ears it just sounded tragic as he hissed:

"Who do you think called you, genius?!"

Everybody, inside the room and out, froze at those words.

"There was no way I was gonna let cancer take me. I survived two tours, severe injuries and countless hours with no good, selfish jackasses that had no respect for the job. If I could do all that, achieve all that, there was no way I was going out a sick, frail old man and suicide was never an option. So, one day, I thought...who on this godforsaken planet hates me more than I hate myself?"

Oliver was becoming more and more disturbed as Hart went on, stepping closer and closer to him. Robin and Deeks could only watch, horrified and fascinated by the turn of events simultaneously.

"I owed it to you. If anyone deserved to pull the trigger on me, it was you, Oliver. But no, just like when you were enlisted, you couldn't follow the damn plan!"

"Dad!" Robin yelled, bolting up off the floor, ignoring her wound and advancing on him, seeing the dangerous gleam in Oliver's eye.

"Dad stop this, please, it's the cancer, the tumor, it makes you...it makes you act— not like yourself, please just..."

"No Robin, he has to hear this, one way or another. We only have what," Hart paused to glance at the timer, "thirteen minutes to live, might as well clear the air..."

"Oliver please," Robin turned to Bradley, her eyes shining, "please don't listen to anything he says. He—he hasn't taken his medication and—and for a while now he's been getting these mood-swings and he doesn't even remember what happens afterwards. Please, let us go, you don't have to kill us! He confessed! Your brother—"

"Don't you dare talk about my brother!" Oliver hissed picking up the pistol from the table and aiming it at her.

Deeks' stared at the black bag about thirty feet from him that contained his gun. If he could just get to it...bomb or no bomb, it was time for some weaponry.

"Oliver..." he called, "you don't want to hurt Robin; that has never been your goal. You wanna know how I know your goal isn't to hurt innocent people? You contained all this to one room. You could have taken over the entire hotel but you didn't. You gave the other people a chance to get away. You didn't bind the people in here to their seats; you didn't abuse them verbally or physically...because underneath all the anger you're still a good guy, Oliver. You're still the upstanding Lieutenant you always were..."

Bradley stared at Deeks, his pistol now moving from Robin to Patrick.

"I hate him," he growled with as much conviction as he could muster, "I hate him because he gave the order for them to go in. And they shot Medina for being 'a threat.' She was eating dinner! She had a bread-knife in her hand! Kevin just never got over it and...and he killed himself, right there in front of me. And YOU," Oliver yelled suddenly, jabbing the gun in Patrick's direction, "YOU DID NOTHING! You stood there and held my mother's hand as she cried and told her about how wonderful Kevin was and how good of an Officer he was and when you brought me into your office that day and gave me your condolences all I wanted to reach across the desk and choke the air from your lungs!"

Hart stared at him, seemingly beginning to calm down again.

"But no," Bradley continued, "after all that you still wanted me to do the dirty work for you, huh? You wanted me to take your life because you couldn't. You just couldn't do that to your family, couldn't shame them, couldn't put them through the pain Kevin put my family through. So what? You thought that you'd get what you want and try to offer me some sick closure, is that it? What if I got caught huh? I'd just go down for murder? Well, regardless, I'm pretty screwed now. But, while I'm here, I might as well do the job you paid me for," he raised the gun at Patrick's chest.

"No!" Deeks yelled.

A shot rang out just as Deeks' body collided with Bradley's.

"Oh my god..." Kensi gasped as she watched her partner jump on a man strapped with a bomb, the sound of a gunshot piercing her very soul.

This couldn't be happening...not now...not after everything they'd been through...

Patrick Hart's eyes widened as he sunk to the floor, blood dripping from his body.

"Dad!" Robin screamed, catching him before he could fall fully, her foot accidently standing on the com, crushing it.

"What just happened? Why can't we hear anything?!" Kensi exclaimed, looking from Eric to Nell and back again.

Meanwhile, Deeks was wrestling the gun from Oliver's grasp, ever aware of the detonator that lay within his jacket pocket.

"It's—it's over Oliver just—" the gun fell to the floor with a loud thump, but that was not what caught Deeks' attention.

Bradley glared up at him, tears in his eyes as he now clutched the detonator in his grasp, his thumb hovering over the button.

"We have to do something! Send in the bomb squad or—"

"Everybody stay back!" Callen's yell to the rest of the law enforcement that were left in the immediate area, interrupting Kensi whose heart was hammering a mile a minute.

"Callen! He's going to blow up that hotel! We have to get Deeks and the others the hell outta there!" Kensi continued, standing up, ignoring the pain in her abdomen and fighting the urge to shake him.

"Mr Deeks has things under control Ms Blye," Hetty said, her voice calmer than she felt.

"Oliver," Deeks murmured, leaping up off him and kneeling at his feet as the ex-lieutenant stood up, "Oliver please, I'm begging you. Don't do this. Let Robin take her father to the hospital and let all of us walk out of here alive, please...it doesn't have to end like this..."

Bradley slowly shook his head.

"I got what I needed Marty, I'm at peace now. Hart confessed and got what he deserved—"

"Then it's over! You—you don't have to blow up anybody. Please, don't—don't you have anyone to live for—"

"My mom has Alzheimer's, I doubt she'll know if I'm gone..." he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Deeks took a deep breath. Okay, time to change tactic.

"Okay, I hate to play this card but man...Robin has people to live for. I have people to live for," the agent gasped, it hitting him suddenly that this could very well be it.

This could be the moment he was dreading. The moment where he realized that he wasn't coming back from this one. This was his last case, these were his last breaths...

And all he could think about was her.

"Please," he mumbled, wiping the blood from his temple (when did he get cut?) as he stared up at Bradley who had begun to sweat profusely.

"Please, let me make just one phone call. It's very important...there's someone out there that needs to know how much I love her."

Oliver stared at him, seeing the desperation etched on his face, seeping from every inch of his body. After a beat, he gave a very slight nod.

With shaking hands, Deeks retrieved his cell phone, biting his lip, pushing down the tears that wanted to break free and forcing himself to press number 1 on his speed dial. With a sigh, he waited as it rang and rang and rang...

Robin Hart cradled her father's head in her lap as she watched Marty plead with Oliver. She didn't think they were getting out of this. There was only six minutes left on Bradley's timer and help wasn't coming...

"Daddy...Daddy please, stay with me," she whispered, stifling her tears and pressing her hands to the large wound on his chest.

"Robin..." Patrick breathed, his eyes landing on his beautiful daughter, "I'm...I'm so proud of you..."

"No Daddy please...don't talk like that..." the tears were flowing freely now, she couldn't stop them.

"Oh baby...it's okay...I don't feel any pain...for the first time since...since I got my...diagnosis. This...is what...what I want..." he murmured softly, "tell your mom...and...and your sister and nephews that...that I love them..."

"No, you can tell them yourself," she said adamantly, wiping a stray hair off his forehead with her other hand.

"And...and keep that boy Johnson...he's good for you..." he smiled gently.

Robin couldn't help but let out a choked laugh.

"You—you knew?" she gaped.

"Honey please...I'm your father...give me some...credit," he whispered, squeezing her hand.

_Hi, you've reached Special Agent Kensi Blye, please leave a message after the beep..._

Deeks' heart sank as he got her answering machine. But, it was either this or die without her ever knowing...time to say the words that were four years in the making, he'd run out of perfect moments:

"Hey Kens..." he breathed, a solitary tear rolling down his cheek. "I—I never imagined that I...I'd be making this call. I—I don't even know where to begin but and god knows I practiced this enough times and I'm rambling sorry I—I shouldn't be rambling. This...this is supposed to be one of the most important things I ever say in my life and I'm screwing it up. Sorry. I—" he broke off, dragging a palm down his face.

"What is he doing? Who is he talking to?!" Kensi gasped from her position in front of the screen outside, "is he calling for help? Did Bradley disarm the bomb?"

Back inside, Deeks was trying to compose himself.

"Kensi I...I have four minutes to live, maybe less so I'll try to keep this brief...well, I guess I'll have to, won't I?" he let out a little laugh, wondering if he waited until the very last moment of his life to finally lose his mind.

"I—I've never been too great with uh...expressing my feelings, I mean, I'm not as bad as you and wow...sorry that—that's not what I'm—ignore that. I—" he broke off, letting out a little puff of air in frustration.

"There aren't words, Kensi, that's the problem with us. There aren't words to describe what we have so...so that's why this isn't going so swimmingly. And yes, I just said swimmingly. I'm no character from a John Hughes movie so there will be no boom boxes or confessions over breakfast or whatever the hell The Breakfast Club is about. Can you believe I've never seen that movie? I was always too afraid to tell you just in case my punishment would be ten viewings of _Pretty in Pink_ like I was repenting and it was the Bible...

"Man, I really suck at this, huh? I wish I had some rom-com writer to feed me the lines Kens but...I can't be fake with you. You always make me want to be the best me I can be and if that means the more annoying me then so be it. You complement me and I complement you. I think that's why our partnership works as well as it does. You're Ying and I'm Yang and even though that sounds like some weird type of sushi it—it makes sense. We make sense, Kensi. Us, together..." he paused, biting his lip, his eyes falling shut.

"You asked me once what I was going to say to you that night you got shot and...and honestly, whatever I was going to say would probably have gone as horribly as this is so for that, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for a lot of other things too...I'm sorry that I have to leave this message at all. I'm sorry I have to leave you but...just know Kens, that I would never, ever leave on purpose, ever. You'd be stuck with me and I can hear your eyes rolling right about now..."

The beep omitted from the phone, alerting Deeks that he was running out of time.

The irony was not lost on him.

"Okay Kens...that's my cue. I just called to say...you're...you're the woman I jump into showers fully clothed for. You're the woman I cook dessert for dinner for. You're the woman I would follow anywhere she asked and stand proudly next to. You're the woman I'm not only proud to call my partner, my colleague, but my best friend. You're the woman I...I've fallen in love with...so, I guess I called to say I love you, just like the song says...in case you didn't figure that out already. And yeah, I know Stevie Wonder would be pissed if he heard what I just said...okay, bye partner..."

The ex-liaison lowered the phone from his ear, a great weight lifting from his shoulders and settling onto his heart. At least now, she knew. She wouldn't have to spend the rest of her life wondering what he really felt for her...

A wave of sadness washed over him. They say, whoever 'they' are, that when you're at the brink of death, your life flashes before your eyes. But for Deeks, what was actually happening, were the moments that he would miss out on.

His and Kensi's first proper kiss as a couple. Their first date. The day they moved in together. The day he finally plucked up the courage to ask her the question she knew he'd been planning for months because he could never hide anything from her. The moment where he'd see her walking steadily up the aisle, looking so beautifully angelic in her very own (what was sure to be) kickass version of a wedding dress. He saw the babies he would have with her, a perfect mixture of them both. Her amazing cheekbones and warm eyes, his fluffy hair and cheeky grin. They would be fun and smart and kickass and just a little mischievous to keep their parents on their toes...and it would be the best years of his life.

Except in reality, he only had two minutes, forty seconds to live.

"Go..." Oliver's voice spat him out of his very last reverie suddenly.

"W-What?" Deeks gaped.

"You heard me, get going, take the girl with you. I'm not like Hart, I'm not causing the pain he caused by taking someone away from the person they love so much...go..." he gestured to the door before turning his back on him.

Deeks didn't need to be told twice.

He leapt up off the floor, but instead of running for Robin, he bolted for the back, snatched up his gun before lunging at Oliver, kicking him in the shin and snatching the detonator from his quickly but carefully.

"What are you—"

Deeks smashed the butt of the gun into Oliver's face, rendering him unconscious. Gently, he sprawled Oliver's limp arms over his head and inched the jacket up his body, before pulling the Kevlar up over his head. Slowly, he held out the jacket out in front of him, and padded over the table, gently depositing it on the table.

He blew out a breath when the timer continued to count down. 00:02:33...32...31...

The team watched from the monitor outside, shocked into silence at what their colleague just did.

"Come on Deeks," Kensi murmured under her breath, gripping the edge of her seat, "get outta there..."

Scrambling back over to Oliver's unconscious form, Deeks bent down, grabbed him around the waist and heaved him up over his shoulder and turned to Robin, yelling:

"Come on Robin, this place is gonna blow!"

"I'm not leaving my dad!" she screamed.

Frantically, Deeks looked around for anything that could help them to carry out the injured man. A grateful smile graced his face when his eyes landed on the dessert table at the corner of the room that appeared to have wheels.

Plonking Oliver down in one of the chairs, he raced towards the table, swept the dishes off it and grabbed it with both hands, wheeling it rapidly towards Robin and Patrick, trying to ignore the large pool of blood on the floor.

"Okay, help me," he gasped as he put his hand behind Patrick's back and tilting him upwards.

The man cried out in pain but Deeks and Robin just worked as quickly as possible to heave him up. After a few agonizing moments and one final pull, Patrick was laid flat out on the table.

"Go! Now!" Deeks yelled, his eyes darting to the timer...00:00:32...31...30...

"But—"

"GO!"

Robin took off in a sprint, pushing the table with all her might towards the emergency exit doors as Deeks raced towards Oliver. Just as he was wrapping his arms around his waist to lift him up, he awoke, groaning and pushing at him.

"Oliver—stop!"

"No! I'm not going—" Deeks stumbled back as Oliver shoved him.

00:00:19...

18...

17...

"Deeks! DEEKS!" a voice was yelling somewhere in the distance.

He frowned. Huh...that sounded oddly like—

His train of thought was cut off when his fist suddenly flew out, punching Oliver in the face on its own accord. Before his brain could catch up, he was pulling him up off the chair and dragging him towards the door...it mere feet away.

05...

He could see the sky outside.

04...

He could see his team in the near distance, they yelling and waving...

03...

He could hear a beautifully familiar voice calling his name.

02...

He could see tousled brunette hair fluttering in the breeze...her beautiful face stricken and pained...

01...

The ground erupted underneath him, a tremendous boom blowing out his ear-drums, lifting his and Oliver's bodies up into the air...

And then he could see nothing...

* * *

"DEEKS!" a voice cried out as the ground shook beneath her feet, the vibration blowing out the windows in the hotel and setting off car alarms and raining shades of glass like lethal snow-fall, thick black smoke omitting from the building as it was engulfed in flames.

It took Kensi three seconds to realize that it was her voice; she was the one that was yelling as she started to sprint towards the hotel, only to have a sharp pain in her abdomen knock the wind out of her, she doubling over in pain.

"Kensi! Kensi, stay back!" Sam raced after her, grabbing her arm.

"Can—can you see him?! Where is he, Sam?!" she whirled around, her eyes wide in horror as she saw the fire fighters begin their trek towards the building.

"We'll find him Kensi, he got out, we saw him run through the door, he's out..." he reassured her with a squeeze to her shoulder as the scene began to grow more chaotic around them.

"H-He was far enough away from the blast right? He can't be too hur—" her voice died in her throat, her gaze frozen as she saw the medics rush into the clouds of rising smoke.

For five agonizing minutes, she stood stock-still, Sam, Callen, Hetty, Nell, Eric and Nate joining her, watching with desperate eyes, waiting for something, anything...

Just when she was about to break free and run after the medics (injury be damned) the two gurneys were pushed though the black smog, a mound of dusty flaxen hair visible on one. It took every ounce of strength in the agent not to bound over to it like a bat out of hell, instead, she followed it with her eyes and after a quick, knowing glance from Hetty, she walked briskly over to the ambulance.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she drank in her partner's form, his skin covered in dust, ash and debris, marred with scratches. His arm also was lying at an odd angle...it was definitely broken.

But he was breathing...

* * *

"Deeks...Deeks...come on, wake up, please," a voice breathed softly into his ear.

With a groan, he struggled to open his eyes, they feeling a ton weight.

"Come on partner," a finger gently poked him in the shoulder.

"K-Kens?" he croaked, his light orbs fluttering, a sharp pain in his head jarring him suddenly awake.

"Ugh, I feel like there's a rave going on inside my head," he muttered as his eyes tried to focus.

He shifted on the gurney, a sharp pain shooting up his left arm.

"My arm hurts too," he hissed, grimacing.

"Well, you did kinda get blown up..." she reminded him as if he'd forgotten.

Her face, the face he'd been longing to see suddenly swam in front of him, a little warped, a little fuzzy but clear enough to cause the familiar fluttering of butterflies in his stomach.

"Hart? Bradley?" he asked, trying to sit up.

"Hey—hey—lay back down," her hand came up to his shoulder, gently pushing him back down.

"Hart was rushed to hospital, his pulse was weak but he was hanging on. You shielded Bradley from any harm when the bomb went off so he was taken immediately into custody...you got out just in time..." she trailed off, trying to shove the horrid memory of watching the timer count down and he still being in the building.

"How—how are you even here?" he whispered, a strong wave of emotion welling up behind his eyes as he stared at her tired but smiling face, one that he never thought he'd get to see ever again.

"You really think you could walk into a bomb-rigged building without me knowing about it?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.

Before he could respond, Sam and Callen came to the open ambulance door, knocking loudly.

"Sleeping beauty awakes," the former smirked and the latter folded his arms, squinting at him.

"Only Deeks could have a first day on the job that ends up in the destruction of public property," he said to his partner as Kensi and Deeks stared at them.

"Yeah, good job _Agent_ Deeks," Sam grinned, "if this is how your first case went, I'm not sure I wanna stick around for the second..."

Deeks opened his mouth to defend his honor when a familiar voice jumped in for him:

"On the contrary Mr Hanna, if the calibre of Mr Deeks' work continues to be as it was today, it would be in your interest to 'stick around,'" Hetty Lange said pointedly, coming to stand in between her two agents, but it was not her presence that caught everyone's attention.

There, standing behind the Operations Manager stood Deputy Director Owen Granger, looking a little rumpled but otherwise unharmed, his dark eyes boring a hole into Deeks' skull. The blond swallowed nervously, he sharing a quick glance with his partner before bracing himself for the worst.

"Looks like you were right Hetty..." he turned to his old friend, not addressing the ex-detective, "Agent Deeks is more than capable for the job..."

And with that, he turned on his heel and began to walk away.

"But I think," he called over his shoulder without a backwards glance, "learning some bomb-defusing techniques might come in useful for next time..."

The team stared after their boss for a moment before turning back to Deeks who heaved a small sigh.

"For the record, I would have settled for a 'good job, Deeks.'"

* * *

"Okay, hold on a sec," Kensi Blye murmured as she and Marty Deeks halted outside her door.

"And why can't I go back to my apartment?" he enquired for the tenth time in the last hour.

"Because, your mom is staying at my mom's place tonight and the doctor said you can't be alone. And for obvious reasons, neither can I. So, sorry, you're stuck here," she tilted her head at him, unlocking the door, stepping in and holding it open for him.

"And they say chivalry is dead," he murmured sarcastically as he squeezed by her, wincing as he jostled his injured arm.

"Why is my mom staying at Julia's place?" he asked, his voice lacing with confusion.

Kensi closed the door behind them and looked towards the kitchen.

"Well, your mom called your phone when you were getting checked out by the doctor so I answered. She said something about going a little overboard with the Christmas shopping and wanting to wrap your present and hide it somewhere you can't find it. Apparently, my mom is doing the same thing for me," she shook her head in amusement, her face falling when she noticed the wince on her partner's face.

"I'll go get you some water so you can take your pain meds, stay right there," she murmured before turning on heel and making her way into the kitchen.

"You know," his voice floated in from the living room as she poured him a glass of water, "I think the worst thing we ever did was let those two become chummy. I have a feeling they're gonna plot for world domination any day now..."

Kensi chuckled, about to reply when a quiet beeping caught her attention. Confused, she glanced around for the source of the noise, only for her eyes to land on her cell phone that sat on her kitchen table.

"Huh," she mumbled under her breath, realizing that in her haste to get to the hotel she had forgotten all about it.

As she picked it up, she noticed that the beep was alerting her to a voicemail she'd received. With a quick glance towards the door and not hearing any troubling noises from Deeks, she pressed the button and held the phone up to her ear.

"Hey Kens...I—I never imagined that I...I'd be making this call."

Her heart lurched in her chest, her mouth dropping open in shock...

* * *

Marty Deeks' cerulean eyes glanced around the place, wondering where exactly in this organized chaos his partner called a living room was the remote. It had been one hell of a long-ass day and all he wanted was to sit back, relax and enjoy some mindless drivel with Kensi until his tired and aching body decided that it was time for sleep.

After as much of a thorough search as he could manage in his injured state, the newly-appointed agent was going to give up when he seen the offending device sitting on the little table beside the door. With a triumphant smirk, he trudged over and picked it up just as he heard his partner's footsteps omit from behind him, alerting him to her presence.

"Seriously Kens, what kinda place is that to keep the remote? Why don't—" his voice died in his throat as he turned around to face her only to see her cell phone raised to her ear, her eyes as round as saucers, her face ghostly white.

_Oh my god..._

In all the commotion after the bomb, he had completely forgotten about the call.

Kensi stepped towards him, an unreadable expression on her face.

Fear rose in Deeks' gut as he stepped back.

But she kept moving forward, slowly but steadily, staring right into his eyes, right into his soul...

Deeks took another step backwards, only to find that he was pressed up against the door. There was nowhere for him to go...

He was unable to tear his eyes away from her as she took one last step towards him as she lowered the phone from her ear.

Deeks began to panic, terrified that he had made a huge mistake. Maybe he had misread everything. Maybe he just made the biggest mistake of his life. Maybe he just ruined the most important relationship he ever had...

It was time for damage control.

"Kensi I can—"

She cut him off by leaning in and pressing her lips to his. His brain short-circuited; he was unable to think of anything but how soft they felt. As if on auto-pilot, his uninjured hand came to rest on her cheek as his lips parted, deepening the kiss. She stepped even closer to him, her hand clutching the back of his neck, her fingers running though his hair as he licked her bottom lip, begging for entrance. They could feel each other's smiles as their hearts beat in unison, both frantic with excitement. It was amazing.

But, the need for oxygen soon forced them to part, but not far, their foreheads resting against each other as they fought to catch their breath.

"Wow..." Deeks gasped, his hand moving from her cheek and trailing down her arm softly.

She slapped it away suddenly.

"Ow! Kens—"

"You are such an idiot!" she growled, her eyes opening and glaring at him, they flashing with anger.

Deeks gaped at her as she slapped his uninjured shoulder in frustration.

"You nearly got yourself blown up and you thought sending me a goodbye voicemail bearing your heart to me would be okay?! God Deeks I—I've been driving myself crazy these last few weeks, months, years trying to—trying to make sense of everything that has happened between us. I—I was trying to convince myself that it was just some...dream I had deluded myself into believing! I couldn't let myself believe that it was real, even after everything that happened! But then you go and just blurt it all out over the phone! What the hell would I have done if you died, huh? Was I just supposed to be content with your dying confession? Have you any idea what hearing that after your death would have done to me!?" she pushed him into the door, a solitary tear rolling down her cheek.

Deeks' eyes widened, trying to find the right words.

"Kens I...I'm sorry. I just—I just couldn't die knowing that you didn't know how I—" she cut him off again, her hand coming up to press against his mouth.

"No Deeks, it's my turn," she whispered before inching closer, trying to calm her nerves.

"Now what was it you said? Oh yeah I suck at expressing my feelings—"

"Kensi—"

"Shut up," she pressed her hand harder against his lips, "and yeah, you're right, I do suck at this but...I'll do my best," she took a deep breath, staring straight into his familiar, warm eyes.

Suddenly, as they looked into each other's eyes, it didn't seem so difficult for her to speak.

"You're future-Deeks," she said suddenly, the words tumbling from her lips.

Deeks could do nothing but stare at her quizzingly.

"You're..." she bit her lip, the dream from the night she was shot fresh in her mind.

"You're future-Deeks. Not past-Deeks, but a mixture of present and future Deeks," she continued, feeling a little foolish, her eyes trailing to the floor as she lifted her hand from his mouth.

There was a beat of silence until Deeks reached down to clasp her hand, squeezing it gently.

"Are you still high?" he asked, a small smirk on his face.

She shook her head at him in annoyance, rolling her eyes.

"Deeks I—"

"I hear what you're saying Kens...and I want you to know, that you're...you're future-Kensi," he whispered, nudging her chin with his knuckle, silently begging her to look at him.

She slowly raised her head, her heart finally slowing down as his words washed over her.

Hope rose in her veins.

"Looks like it only took me getting shot and you getting blown up for us to finally stop kidding ourselves," she whispered, her eyes falling closed as his breath bounced off her cheek.

"Looks like..." he murmured, "now do I get to finally kiss you or are you gonna ambush me again?"

She let out a quiet laugh, not opening her eyes, just waiting.

Marty Deeks had never seen a more beautiful sight.

Slowly, gently, he leaned forward and captured her lips, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He let out a gasp as she bit his bottom lip playfully, a low heat pooling in his stomach as she let out the tiniest groan as she pressed against him.

Pain shot through his arm causing him to jump back, breaking the kiss.

"Oh crap sorry!" she apologized, unwrapping her arms from him quickly only to grimace at the ache in her abdomen.

It didn't go unmissed by Deeks.

"Guess we're both...a little roughed up huh?" he smirked.

"Yeah, I think we need to go to bed," she said without thinking.

He arched his eyebrow.

"Oh you know what I mean!" she scolded, "sleep Deeks, we need sleep..." she trailed off, taking his hand in hers and walking backwards.

Deeks followed obediently, wondering if he'd somehow already fallen asleep and he was actually dreaming all this.

His heart skipped a beat when Kensi turned, still keeping his hand in hers and opened her bedroom door, gently pulling him after her.

"You sit down here, I'll get you something to change into," she said quietly, leading him to sit down on the right side of her bed before turning to the closet, unable to keep the little grin off her face.

"You're giving me the right side?" he asked, his voice raised in surprise, watching her, entranced as she moved about the room.

"Well," she said, handing him some clothes and unzipping her jacket, aware of his eyes glued to her, "you've had a tough day."

* * *

The mattress was soft and comfortable when he lowered himself down onto it a few moments later as he waited for Kensi to come out of the bathroom. He couldn't believe today. Never did he in his wildest dreams think when he woke up this morning that this is where he'd end up. His heart was singing, his veins aflame as he remembered their kiss, their first proper kiss that not two three ago he was convinced that they'd never get to have.

There was just something about coming so close to the brink of death to make you feel so incredibly alive.

Just as that thought left his brain, the bathroom door opened to reveal his partner, clad in sweatpants and a T-shirt, a very familiar T-shirt.

"I knew it!" he exclaimed as she made her way towards him, "I knew you had my shirt..."

Kensi shrugged, sitting down on the left side of her bed and catching his eye.

Her heart skipped a beat at his expression. There were so many words being passed between them and yet neither spoke aloud.

After a moment of exchanging grins, Deeks stifled a yawn as Kensi draped the blanket over them.

"You should get some rest," she murmured.

He nodded, his eyes feeling heavy once more, comforted by the warmth omitting from her body.

"Deeks," she whispered as she leaned over to turn off the light, shimming down the bed, facing him, "you're the only one I'd surrender the right side to, just so you know."

His eyes opened in the darkness, staring at the outline of her body, catching her hand in his.

"Ditto," he replied quietly. "We...we still need to talk about...everything..." he trailed off, trying to quench his nerves.

"We will," she squeezed his hand, ebbing his fears away, "tomorrow, we'll tackle it all tomorrow...together."

She sealed her promise with a kiss, light and sweet and full of hope.

And they slept, long and restful, the best either of them had in a very long time...

**A/N: *Peeks in* So...what d'ya think guys? Densi are now official! All the following chapters from now on will be the development of their romantic relationship :D Hope you're all as excited as me :D**

**Oh and I just want to note, to any Hawaii Five-0 fans, I came up with the Patrick hiring Oliver to kill him plot-twist before seeing the twist in the 'Ha'awe Make Loa' (Death Wish) episode. Funny coincidence XD**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

**"You kidding? It's the perfect foundation for a relationship. Karty, Beeks, Dyle. Oh no, I got it! Mensi! Oh yeah, that's it…we're totally Mensi…" he trailed off, wrapping his arms around her waist.**

**Kensi's nose wrinkled, "eww Deeks, don't be gross."**

**"Not gross…creative," he smirked, sweeping a brunette tendril behind her ear with a grin.**

**"And gross," she groused before a small smile spread across her face, "you said relationship, by the way…" she trailed off, poking him gently in the chest as her other hand wrapped around the back of his neck.**

**"I know…" he murmured before chuckling as she closed the gap between them, leaning up on her tip-toes and capturing his lips with hers.**

**Happy Holidays! Please Review :D**

**~Cortexikid x**


	35. Pulchritude

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 35: Pulchritude **

**A/N: Hi guys :D Happy New Year! Hope everybody had a fantastic holiday season! Without further ado, I present to you, my loyal readers, the first foray into Deeks and Kensi's budding romantic relationship...hope you like it ;) I may have overdone it in the fluff department but I just wanna spoil you guys before delving into another case featuring a blast from the past...dun, dun, dun! **

**RANDOM THOUGHT: Is anyone else as pissed as me at the whole team (especially Kensi) forgetting Deeks' birthday? And Kensi ditching him for Jaime? I mean, wtf?! Anyway...moving on...I will not get annoyed again...**

**WARNING: A little, very-tame steaminess ahead. It's within the T-rating but just thought I'd let you guys know just in case.**

**Disclaimer: Yo, NCIS:LA and Breaking Bad aren't mine. Bitch.***

* * *

**WOTD: PULCHRITUDE; ****pul****·****ch****·****rit****·****ude ****_noun_****. Beauty, allure, elegance.**

Soft glimmers of sunlight beamed through a crack in the dark-violet curtains, basking one side of Marty Deeks' face in a ray of early morning radiance.

His eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head away from the light, the soft pressure on his chest shuffling too before stilling, a soft sigh floating around the room. He was on the cusp of reality yet still immersed in fantasy; flighty, colourful images passing across his closed eyes. They were pleasant, that much he knew, even if they were just blurs, they made him feel...content. Wondrous. A lucky son-of-a-gun.

But the warmth was ensnaring him, cocooning him, tempting him to awake, to shake himself from his slumber and allow his mind to regain consciousness, his eyes slowly fluttering open, the fogginess still shrouding him as he tried to focus.

_Where am I?_

A quiet, gentle murmuring from the vicinity of his chest gave him a clue, it more of a snort-snore than a murmur, really. With a bite of his lip, Deeks' heart leapt into his throat as he tried to control the firing of random and frantic thoughts that surged through his brain. Dozens of images flashed across his eyes as the past 48 hours came flooding back to him, guns, hostages, bombs, detonators, timers, explosions...

He winced as a dull ache flowed up his injured arm, a not-so-subtle reminder of the little souvenir he got for venturing into The Regency Hotel a few hours before. As he glanced down to check on the bandage, a shock of tousled brunette hair caught his attention. His frantic heart instantly began to slow, a warmth spreading through his chest as his eyes landed on the soft, slumbering face of Kensi Marie Blye, her snort-snore as cute as ever as she shifted slightly, her arm flinging across his stomach, her feet entangling themselves with his.

He was right. She was a damn octopus, a squidgy, cuddly octopus. That whole star-fish-spread-eagle-limbs-everywhere-hogging-the-covers-and-pushing-him-out-of-the-bed malarkey was just an act for undercover ops. God, he wished he had a camera. But for now, a mental picture would have to do. And what a picture it was...

With a small sigh, the ex-liaison lay there, content just watching his partner sleep, finding it to be quite the habit he was getting fond of. It was the only thing that kept him sane when she had gotten shot, as he sat there, restless and fidgeting at her bedside on a stiff, uncomfortable chair, staring at her face, it peaceful and unmarred by the horrors of the world around them, it was his safe haven, his beacon of light in the otherwise dark tunnel he had fallen into.

But now, now it meant so much more than just that. His heart thumped quickly once more, like a train picking up speed as he thought back on last night, the night he had waited over four years for...

She kissed him.

Really kissed him. No cover, no op as an excuse, just she and he in her apartment after a long, hard day and maybe some tension and heart-felt confessions thrown in too.

A small smile spread across his face as he thought about it. Never, did he ever, allow himself to imagine too seriously over the years that they could possibly come to this point. Come to a place where they actually openly acknowledged that their 'thing' was so much more than just that and act on those 'more than that' feelings. But here they were, lying in bed, her head on his chest, they both feeling that they belonged there. It really was something he could get used to and look forward to experiencing for the rest of his life...

"Stop thinking so loudly," a tired voice came from the direction of the brunette hair suddenly, startling Deeks from his reverie.

Panic rose in his veins. It was if his bubble had burst and he was now back to reality. Fear seeped into his skin as he worried that all his daydreaming could possibly be wishful thinking, they still had so much to discuss after all. Still, he couldn't let her know that. She was the emotionally-skittish one, he had to thread very lightly here.

"Didn't know you could read minds Professor X," he smirked as she shifted carefully, raising her head from off him (he tried and failed to hide his disappointment) and slowly met his gaze.

There, for a split-second, he saw the same fear in her eyes that he knew was exactly what he felt, that little niggling feeling in the back of their minds that they could have possibly screwed up everything, that they would never be the same, that they possibly made the biggest mistake in their entire lives...

But almost as soon as it arrived, it disappeared, her warm polychrome eyes turning a little bashful, a little nervous but not regretful.

The tightness in his chest loosened.

"Think I could rock the bald look?" she asked, running a hand through her hair as she gently sat up, wincing a little as the bandages on her abdomen pulled a little on her skin.

Deeks watched with cautious eyes as she settled herself, still lying on his back, staring up at her.

"I think if anyone could pay tribute to Sir Patrick Stewart, it'd be you..."

She let out a snort, shaking her head, gazing down at him, growing quiet, a pensive expression crossing her beautiful face.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she breathed softly before her hand began to move, her fingers sweeping Deeks' hair back off his forehead, gently trailing over a scratch he'd sustained from the explosion.

Deeks fought the urge to close his eyes, instead forcing himself to keep eye contact with her, noticing that a darkness had passed over her face, her eyes shining a little.

"I thought I'd lost you," she half-whispered, almost to herself, "when I—when I heard the explosion and saw the fire and—"

She broke off, shaking her head curtly.

"I—you scared the hell outta me, Deeks," she murmured, a little shiver shrouding her body as she pulled away her hand.

Before she could fully, Deeks' uninjured hand shot out, catching her hand in his, squeezing it gently.

"You scared me too...Kens, when you were shot and I—I wasn't there, I didn't have your back...if—if anything ever happened to you I would have never forgiven myself, I don't forgive my—"

She cut him off by slowly lowering herself, her face hovering inches from his.

"Don't blame yourself, it wasn't your fault Deeks, you've nothing to be forgiven for," she said softly, her breath bouncing off his skin, her hand coming to rest on his chest, her fingers curled around his T-shirt, "now are you gonna keep rambling or stop and wish me a good morning?"

A smile broke out on Deeks' face. Oh yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

"Did you just pull the 'shut up and kiss me' stunt?" he asked, a chuckle shaking his chest under her hand.

"So what if I did?" she replied, a cheeky grin on her face.

"Hey, no complaints here, feel free any time," Deeks held up her hand in his, using it to pull her gently down on top of him, watchful of her injury and his.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, nothing passing between them but frantic breaths and unspoken words before Deeks leaned up and brushed his lips against hers in a feather-light kiss. He could feel her smile growing bigger before she opened her mouth, deepening the kiss as her other hand reached up to rake through his hair.

His heart hammered in his chest as she pressed herself against him, his hand letting hers fall so he could wrap it around her waist, pulling her closer. She hooked her leg across his waist as their tongues danced, her breathing hitching as she felt the pad of his thumb creep up under her T-shirt.

It was electrifying.

The temperature in the room felt as if it had risen several degrees, both pulses soaring as the need for oxygen soon began to override their need for each other, forcing them to break the kiss, their foreheads resting against each other.

"Wow..." Kensi gasped.

"Yeah," Deeks agreed as he fought to catch his breath.

Their eyes met once more, both reflecting the exact same feelings. Fear. Excitement. And something that they wouldn't name. Not yet.

Kensi bit her lip, something which made Deeks' heart skip a beat before he leaned back up, his mouth an inch from hers. The blond's eyes fluttered closed, bracing himself for another heart-stopping kiss when a loud knock reverberated around the house.

He felt her still, her frantic breaths rising from off his face, signalling that she was sitting up.

"Wha...?" Deeks murmured unintelligibly, his heart sinking.

"Someone's at the door," she replied, her voice sounding weird.

That prompted the ex-liaison to open his eyes and look at her. When he did, he was surprised at what he saw. There, not three feet from him, was his partner, kneeling on her bed and staring back at him as if he were an alien life-form she'd just discovered commandeering her bed.

"Kens what—"

"I—should go get the door. You uh...you stay here," she mumbled before slowly standing up, hand resting gently on her abdomen as she padded out of the room.

Deeks lay there, willing himself to calm down. He didn't think he could move right now even if he wanted to. He was going to joke about it but something about Kensi's face just then stopped him. He severely hoped it was just someone selling something at the door so she could send whoever it was away and get the hell back in here.

It looked like it might be time for their talk.

He could hear voices coming from down the corridor, they wafting quite loudly. With a frown, he slowly sat up, favouring his uninjured arm before freezing like a deer caught in headlights as a very familiar voice began to call out:

"Marty! Where are you, sweetheart?"

Oh shit.

His mother.

Fantastic.

* * *

Kensi padded softly but quickly out of the room, willing herself not to look back at the delectable blond man lying in her bed. Jesus, her heart was beating a mile a second! Biting her lip she tried to calm the hell down and compose herself before she got to the door.

She had never experienced anything quite like this. Had never gotten this riled up over a...a little make-out session. Granted, they were in her bed and tensions were running high after everything they'd been through but...wow. She never would have thought...actually, scratch that, she had a good idea what it would be like to fool around with Deeks. At least, she felt like she did. God knows she dreamt about it for long enough. But this, this felt so much _better _than any of her dreams. Her heart was soaring, her nerve-endings singing, humming in anticipation. If this was how it felt just to kiss him, she couldn't imagine what it'd be like to actually slee—

"Mind outta the gutter Blye," she muttered under her breath as her door came within sight.

She was freaking out; she didn't need sexual fantasies to enter into the equation, not yet. They still had so much to talk about, so much to think about before she could possibly even entertain that idea. But, she didn't realize how easy or how_ good_ it would feel to take that step with him – she knew that had the knock on the door not interrupted them, and were they slightly in better health injury-wise, they very could have taken that step that very moment.

And that terrified her.

"Hold on a second," she called to whoever was outside, shaking her head to rid herself of the Deeks distraction that fought to override her brain and searching for her keys.

Finding them on her coffee table, she traipsed forward and unlocked the door, fully prepared to send away whoever it was, only to be met by large, brightly-coloured parcels stacked sky-high, blocking whoever it was from view.

"What—"

"Oh Kensi honey, take a couple of these, just the ones on top that aren't heavy, don't want you hurting yourself," the voice of her mother called from somewhere behind the tower of presents.

With a horrified glance behind her towards her bedroom door, she quickly took a few presents and prayed that Deeks had the sense to stay in her room.

"Mom, what is all this?" she asked, stepping back and regretfully allowing her mother entry into her home.

"They're Christmas presents," another familiar voice replied from behind Julia.

"Angela, hi, I uh...didn't see you there," Kensi gaped as Deeks' mother came into view (carrying her own load of presents), her heart leaping into her throat, beginning to panic.

This was bad. This was so very, very bad.

"It looks like your mom and Angie may have gone a little overboard," yet another familiar voice sounded, startling her.

"Mr Woodruffe," Kensi said, her eyes wide with shock as the ex-police officer stepped through her door.

"Forgive the intrusion Ms Blye," Jimmy apologized with a look to Angela who was now depositing gifts on Kensi's living room floor, "but the ladies insisted and I am only human."

"Marty! Where are you sweetheart?" Angela called out before taking the presents out of Kensi's hands and placing them on the floor with the others.

There was a beat of silence as everybody waited for Deeks to reply. A blush began creeping up Kensi's neck as she thought about where exactly her partner was and what could possibly be running through his mind right now.

"Mom?" his voice called out suddenly, sounding appropriately surprised and not holding an ounce of the anxiety that Kensi was experiencing, "I'll be out in a second. I'm just...in the bathroom."

Kensi breathed a sigh of relief as Angela merely shrugged, apparently accepting her son's story.

"So, coffee anyone?" Julia asked, staring at her daughter who couldn't quite meet her gaze before walking into the kitchen.

"Sounds lovely," Angela nodded, turning her attention to Kensi.

"So sorry about this Kensi, but we went a little overboard and the car was getting a little full," she grinned.

"That's okay Angela, you're welcome here any time," she replied, knowing that 'any time' wasn't exactly what she meant, more like 'any time once she and Deeks knew well in advance so they could avoid precisely this situation.'

"Be careful Kens, an invitation like that and she may never leave," Deeks' voice came from behind her, walking up to them, nodding at Woodruffe and shaking his hand just as Angela reached out and smacked the back of his head before her eyes landed on his injured arm.

"Did he behave for you last night Kensi?"

Kensi gaped at her, exchanging a quick glance with Deeks who was barely containing the smirk that wanted to break out onto his face.

"Uh..." she trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say.

"I just know he can be the worst patient in the world. I remember one time when he got chicken pox—"

"Mom, you really don't need to tell that story," Deeks cut her off, turning to Jimmy, "so, how've you been Jimmy? She driving you crazy yet?" he asked, gesturing over his shoulder to his mother who had now taken Kensi by the hand and was leading her into the kitchen, saying something that sounded awfully like – "Marty's poor behind was red-raw, he couldn't sit down for a week!"

He grimaced as Jimmy smirked at him.

Leave it to his mother to offer up the least-sexiest bit of information about him to the woman of his dreams not moments after their intense make-out session.

The woman had a gift.

* * *

_Christmas Eve_

"I think I'm in a Christmas Nightmare," Kensi grumbled as they sat, surrounded by wrapping paper and bows and sticky tape and a various assortment of presents, it looking very much like an elf had massacred Santa's workshop in the middle of her living room.

"Don't you mean A Nightmare Before Christmas, Sally?" Deeks asked with a cheeky grin before sticking a gold bow onto the gift he was wrapping.

She merely shook her head amusedly at him. It had been over a week since the wrap up of the Bradley case and everything that followed after it and they had yet to get a minute to themselves to talk about anything.

Their mothers had volunteered at the shelter that Deeks had brought her to a few times and had bought presents for everyone there, making their children the chief gift-wrappers whilst they continued to shop and help out, so things had been crazy busy. That, and the fact that Deeks had gone back to work for the last week before Christmas, meant that Kensi had hardly seen him. Before she knew it, it was Christmas Eve and they were hurriedly trying to get everything ready for tomorrow.

"Nightmare or not, it's still better than how we spent last Christmas..." Deeks said as he started on another present.

"Oh yeah, that was one to remember. Naval ships, cocaine-laced paint and you calling my mom a stone-cold fox," Kensi deadpanned without looking at him.

"Funny how you remember that throw away comment so easily..." he smirked, tilting his head at her.

"Saying you want to spend the holidays with me and mom in a hot tub is not something easily forgotten Deeks," Kensi replied without a beat, a quirked eyebrow in his direction.

He chuckled at her but before he could reply, Angela and Julia appeared from the kitchen.

"What's that about a hot-tub?" his mom asked, looking intrigued.

"Nothing mom," Deeks replied quickly before Kensi could say a word, "we're just about done here. Is Jimmy meeting you there?"

"He'll be there with bells on apparently," Angela murmured, her face pensive as she tapped her chin, "huh, I wonder if he meant that literally or figuratively..."

Julia and Kensi laughed as Deeks grimaced for what felt like the hundredth time that week.

"For the sake of my sanity, let's hope he meant figuratively," he shuddered, trying to rid himself of the unpleasant images that were beginning to seep into his brain.

"Oh Marty don't be such a prude! We're all adults here," Angela mock-scolded, winking at Kensi who flushed bright red.

Before his mother could make any more remarks that would likely scare him forever, Deeks leapt up off the floor and shoved the presents into her hands, wincing as he pulled a muscle in his injured arm but ignoring it and plastering on a fake smile.

"Okay, you guys go on ahead without us; we'll catch up a little later!"

"Trying to get rid of us are you?" his mother asked quietly as Julia helped Kensi stand up off the floor before they both walked to the door.

"Mom..." Deeks warned under his breath, glancing at the two brunettes who were apparently in throngs of a conversation and not paying attention to them.

"I know something's changed between you two Marty so there's no point in trying to hide it from me," she informed him, pulling on her coat.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he shrugged, knowing well that she could see right through him.

"If you say so," she sing-songed with a roll of her eyes before turning her attention to Kensi and Julia.

"Well Jules, we better hit the road if we wanna beat the traffic, I'll see you later Kensi sweetheart," she stepped forward, enveloping the younger woman in a gentle hug and kissing her cheek before opening the door for Deeks who was carrying the last of the presents in a large sack out to the car.

"It's a good look for you," Kensi smirked as she followed them outside, wrapping her arms around herself.

"What?" he asked as he put the sack into the trunk and opened the passenger door for his mother as Julia started up the engine.

"Santa's little helper," she grinned, as Deeks closed the door and they both waved their mothers off, watching as the car disappeared into the night air.

"And what does that make you?" he asked as they made their way back inside.

She laughed, turning around to look at him, realizing that this was the first time that they had been entirely alone for the last week.

"Well, I could always borrow Nell's elf outfit, call myself a toy-maker," she smirked, one eyebrow arched as she watched Deeks' eyes practically glaze over, no doubt imagining her dressed as an elf, ears and everything.

"Now there's an idea," he grinned, "I might have to hold you to that..."

She shook her head in amusement before lowering herself down onto the couch, pushing the random scraps of wrapping paper down onto the floor and tilting her head back, eyes closed. She felt Deeks sit down next to her, doing the same, letting out a large sigh followed by a yawn.

"Long day?" she asked, eyes still closed.

"Slow day," he murmured, "Sam was getting antsy, apparently he was afraid we would randomly catch a case and he'd have to nearly miss Christmas again this year."

"I don't blame him," Kensi replied, a yawn overcoming her too.

"The dynamic duo working you hard, little elf?" he asked, nudging her gently with his elbow.

"If I never see wrapping paper again it'll be too soon," she sighed, shifting a little on the couch, her head inadvertently landing on Deeks' shoulder.

She stilled for a moment, her eyes flying open as she waited to see if Deeks would move. When he didn't, she left her head where it was, her eyes fluttering closed again. He was radiating heat, his jacket feeling so soft against her cheek, his slow, deep breathing enough to lull her to sleep...

Maybe five minutes rest would do her some good.

* * *

Kensi awoke to the sound of singing.

With a frown, she stared up at her living room ceiling, realizing that she was lying on her back on the couch, a large jacket that had a familiar scent sprawled over her, her partner nowhere in sight. Gently rising, she could now hear the singing more clearly, noting that it was coming from the kitchen and recognizing the voice immediately.

Despite her teasing, Deeks really did have a good voice.

"I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know, make my wish come true, all I want for Christmas is yoooooooooooooou, yoooou baby," he was singing along ala Mariah Carey to the radio.

Kensi smothered her laugh with her hand as she carefully stood up and tip-toed towards the kitchen, nearly bursting out in uncontrollable hysterics as she caught sight of her partner dancing around her kitchen with a Santa hat on his head, apparently baking cookies, still singing with enough passion for any X-Factor contestant.

"Santa won't you bring me the one I really need, won't you please bring my baby to me-he-he-he..."

"Simon Cowell would be impressed, Mariah."

Deeks leapt about three feet in the air at Kensi's voice and whirled around, eyes wild.

"K-Kens, when did you wake up?" he gaped before realizing that the tray he was holding was starting to burn him through the oven mitts and quickly deposited it on the counter, hissing at the pain.

"About thirty seconds ago, apparently your carolling was enough to invade my subconscious," she deadpanned before crossing the room, watching as he reefed off the mitts and blew on his fingers.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he grinned, before turning around to grab a plate.

Kensi leaned forward, glancing down at the cookies on the tray, her mouth watering at the assortment of Christmas-shaped goods, they all neatly decorated and smelling divine.

"Those aren't for you Miss I-Swear-I'm-Giving-Up-Refined-Sugar-For-My-New-Year's-Resolution," he rolled his eyes as he glared at him.

"Deeks! That's not fair—"

"These," he interrupted, placing another plate of lukewarm cookies in front of her, "are for you..."

She practically exploded with excitement, already snatching one up and taking a large bite. Deeks watched her amusedly, always a little disturbed at the enthusiasm in which Kensi ate.

"Oh my god Deeks, these are so amazing, I could kiss you," she breathed, taking another bite.

He stilled, eyebrows rising at her comment. He knew it was just a figure of speech but considering they hadn't had a moment to themselves in over a week and he had been left reeling from their last kiss, the prospect of another seemed too good to pass up.

"Well, Santa's little helpers need some sort of compensation...a Christmas kiss might do it," he smirked, watching as it dawned on her what she just said.

Her cheeks flushed red as she swallowed the last of the cookie.

"I don't see any mistletoe...funny, I thought my mom would have sneakily tried to stick some up without us noticing," she replied, stepping around the counter and halting about a foot from him, looking up into his eyes.

"Well, the woman is a ninja, she could give Hetty a run for her money, so there could be some around somewhere...do I need it?" he asked, almost as an afterthought, his voice a little nervous as if he were regretting this topic altogether.

Slowly, Kensi shook her head, leaning up onto her tiptoes and lightly brushing her lips against his.

Before Deeks could react, she sank back down and stepped back, a shy grin on her face.

"One kiss per cookie," she winked before moving across the room to pick up her shoes.

"Well in that case, here, all of these are for you," he pushed all the cookies on the counter towards her.

She laughed, shaking her head at him.

"And what about all the cookies you promised Dean and the boys down at the shelter?"

Deeks avoided her gaze.

"I could make more," he muttered in mock-justification before shaking his head and mumbling light-heartedly, "thanks for the guilt-trip, Kens."

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Just reminding you of what's really important Deeks," she smiled, standing up and walking back over to him, an indecipherable expression on her face, "and besides," she shrugged, "since when have I ever needed cookies to kiss you?"

* * *

_Christmas Day_

"I think I'm going to explode."

"Me too."

"Oh you lightweights, this is something you gotta train year-round for," Jimmy Woodruffe gestured to the two partners as they pushed away their plates, each full of Christmas dinner and just about ready to burst.

"It's not the Olympics Jim," Angela laughed, pushing her plate away too as Julia took a sip of wine.

They had had just finished their meal after spending a large chunk of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day down at the shelter. Julia had kindly offered to have them all over for dinner as she was by herself this year, her husband overseas on business. Kensi had come straight from home that morning, arms laden with presents before she did everything she could to help her mother prepare. They then met Deeks, Angela and Jimmy at the shelter, helped out for a few hours before heading back to the Feldman's together.

"Is it present time yet?" Kensi asked, eyeing the large bundle under the tree, feeling like a kid again, the thought warming her chest.

Angela and Julia exchanged glances before nodding.

"Sure Kens," Julia grinned at her daughter as she stood up and calmly walked over to the gifts, trying not to let out her inner child that wanted to dash over and rip open every last gift with borderline-violent enthusiasm.

Deeks chuckled as he watched his partner pick up as many gifts as she could manage and dump them all on the table, each person checking the labels for their names. She may have pretended otherwise but he knew that she had missed this part of Christmas, had missed the child-like wonder that went with it and he knew that this was, in some way, her getting some of that, of what she missed over the years, back.

He was grateful to be a part of it.

* * *

"What time are you going to visit Astrid tomorrow?" he asked on the ride back to her place later that night.

Kensi rolled her head to the side to look at him, her smile tired, her eyes a little glassy.

"Around noon. Wanna come with me?"

"And risk the hazardous badassery of you two? No thanks, playing poker with you guys is bad enough," he grumbled as he pulled up at Kensi's house.

"That's because you have a terrible poker-face," she poked him in the cheek with the tip of her finger as he parked the car.

"I think somebody may have had a little too much eggnog," he laughed as he unbuckled his seat-belt and stepped out of the car, walking around it and catching Kensi's door, holding it open for her.

The brunette sat sideways in the passenger seat, her feet planted on the ground, staring up at him in the semi-darkness with an enigmatical expression on her face.

"What?" he asked with a confused smile.

There was a beat of silence where Kensi continued to stare at him wordlessly, apparently having an inner conversation with herself. Deeks merely shook his head at her and held out his hand for her to take. Her eyes flickered from his face to his hand and eventually took it, gently rising and closing the car door behind her. She took an attentive step forward, only to stumble back, pulling Deeks against her as she was pinned between him and the car.

Her partner gaped at her, shocked at the sudden movement, staring down into her eyes as she squeezed his hand, biting her lip.

"Yep, that's a definite on the eggnog," he murmured, his voice a little higher in pitch as if he was nervous.

Her eyes caught his again, they a shade darker than usual as she tilted her head to the side, pulling him even closer to him.

"I may have gone a little overboard celebrating being taken off the pain meds," she agreed with a goofy smile.

"I can see that," Deeks nodded, "come on; let's get you to bed..."

Kensi arched an eyebrow at him, a sly smirk on her face.

"You know what I mean," he shook his head, a grin breaking out on his face at her suggestive nature, before he turned on his heel, still holding her hand in his and gently leading her to the front door.

"Come on little elf, time to rest so you can get up in the morning and start preparing for Christmas all over again," he murmured as he unlocked the door, halting to kick it closed behind them, locking it, taking her hand once more and leading her across the living room, down the corridor towards her bedroom.

Kensi merely let him lead her, her feet heavy, her shoulders sagging. Yep, she was definitely not one hundred per cent herself; if she were, he'd be on his ass right now.

Clearing his throat, Deeks opened the door with his injured hand, relieved that it was not as painful anymore and walked over to Kensi's bed, turning around to face her.

"Okay, I'll leave you to get changed and grab some stuff to sleep on the—"

"Stay with me," she murmured as she sank down onto the bed.

Deeks gaped at her, not knowing if he heard her correctly.

"Kens we—we still haven't had our talk..." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Some things," she began, tilting her head up to look at him, her eyes shining brightly in the dimly lit room, "don't need to be talked about."

Deeks leaned down, looking her straight in eye.

"And some things do, Kens," he smiled softly, "but, if you insist, I guess I could keep you company..."

The brunette nodded, kicking off her boots and lying down on the left side of the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Deeks stood there, not entirely sure what to do but after she turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in a silent 'what are you waiting for?' he took off his shoes and crossed to the right side of the bed, lying down and glancing up to the ceiling.

The two partners lay there in silence for a long moment, the only sound reaching their ears being their mingled breath. Heaving a deep sigh, Kensi broke the silence, still not looking towards the man beside her.

"I've waited a long time for a Christmas like today," she breathed, the warmth and alcohol in her system beginning to lull her to sleep.

"Me too," he replied, turning his head to look at her, his eyes softening as he drank in her tired profile.

"I never would have had it if it weren't for you..." she turned her head towards him, they both staring into each other's eyes.

Slowly, he felt her hand creep down to catch his, lacing their fingers together.

"I—I know you've been wanting to talk and—and I've been avoiding it but...I want you to know that I've...I've no regrets, Deeks," she murmured disjointedly, squeezing his hand.

"I don't either Kensi," he assured her, his thumb sweeping across the back of her hand as he brought it up to his lips and pecking it gently.

She nodded, a small smile on her face.

"Good..." she sighed, her eyes fluttering closed, "we...we just gotta...gotta keep it between us, that's all..."

Deeks stiffened, watching as her breathing began to slow, deepen.

"Yeah, but not forever...we don't have to keep it between us forever, right Kens?" he asked, hating the tenseness in his tone.

"Umm..." was her only reply as she was dragged into the realm of sleep, her face relaxed, growing peaceful.

The ex-liaison bit his lip as he stared down at their joined hands. Conflicted emotions welled up in him. But now was not the time to dwell on these complicated conflictions, now was time for sleep.

And he couldn't think of a better person to sleep next to than Kensi Blye...

* * *

_New Year's Eve/Day_

"I can't believe it's the end of another year," Marty Deeks lamented as his partner placed the pizza on her coffee table and pulled her feet up underneath her as she sank onto the couch.

"I can't believe you're actually agreeing to this," Kensi smirked as she pointed the remote at the TV and flicked on her DVD player.

"Well, any self-respecting man that willingly goes into a store and purchases the John Hughes entire box-set is entitled to get his money's worth," he informed her, as he picked up a fistful of popcorn.

"I knew you were a fan," she clicked her fingers at him, "it was a very thoughtful present, thank you," she chuckled as he shoved the popcorn into his mouth, "my mom is already planning another marathon."

"Speaking of moms, where are ours?" he asked, his voice a little muffled as he chewed.

"At a New Year's Eve party uptown," she smirked, "they have better social lives than we do."

"Speak for yourself, Monty and I do okay, don't we Monty?" Deeks asked as the canine in question traipsed in from Kensi's kitchen.

The brunette rolled her eyes before patting the spot between her and Deeks on the couch. With puppy-like enthusiasm, Monty leapt up beside her and began trying to lick her face.

"No, Monty! No kisses!" Deeks scolded as Kensi chuckled, scratching the dog behind his ears.

"Jealous, Deeks?" she couldn't help but ask, a twinkle in her eye.

"Yeah, Monty was saving those kisses for me," he replied instantly with a quirk of his eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the TV, grinning as the words _16 Candles_ came up on the screen.

"You promise we'll watch at least three episodes of Breaking Bad after this, right?" Deeks asked, appearing alarmed that his partner wouldn't keep up her end of the bargain.

"Promise," she smiled as she made herself comfortable.

The ex-liaison shifted, moving Monty's tail so he could get comfortable too.

Just two hours left until they said goodbye to yet another year.

* * *

Stifling a yawn, Deeks checked his watch, his eyebrows shooting up as he realized the time.

"Kens...hey, Kens," he whispered, shaking his slumbering partner gently on the shoulder.

"Mmmph," she mumbled before her eyes slowly peeked open and surveyed her surroundings, noting that she was getting in quite the habit of falling asleep with her head on Deeks' shoulder.

"It's nearly midnight," he nudged her gently, switching the TV over to the live coverage of the block party downtown.

"I think I've had enough of countdowns, thanks," she grumbled, switching the TV off and turning to face him.

Deeks felt a sudden shift in the ambiance, frowning as he watched Kensi avoid eye contact with him. A surge of discomfort rose in his stomach.

"Kens are you—"

"I'm sorry," she interrupted him, biting her lip.

"For what?" he asked, trying to push down the fear that was beginning to seep into his veins.

"I—I know that I've been acting a little...weird lately..." she sighed, "since...since we—since the morning after you took down Bradley..." she trailed off, keeping her eyes on Monty.

A warmth flowed into Deeks chest as he remembered fondly the morning of over two weeks before and their little make out session before they were unceremoniously interrupted by their mothers of all people.

"I—" she cleared her throat, forcing herself to look him in the eye, "I freaked out a little, I admit that," she grumbled, standing up off the couch and pacing the room, "it—it's much easier than I thought it would be, taking that step with you and—I just don't want to screw this up, Deeks. I can't," she finished as she ran a hand through her hair, letting out a puff of air.

Deeks stood up, stepping close to her, staring into her eyes with as much conviction as he could manage.

"What makes you think you'll screw this up, Kens? Aren't I supposed to be the screw up?" he asked with a small smile, trying to ease her anxiety.

She merely stared at him, clearly agitated at the feelings that she had been keeping a lid on for over two weeks.

"I go back to work in a couple of days, Deeks," she kept his gaze, "and like I said before, I have no regrets, I don't. It's just...it's a big change and there's our careers to consider so can we...can we just, take things slow and—and have it be ours? Just ours that nobody can interfere with?" she asked, her hands clenched tightly at her sides.

He realized what she was asking. She wanted discretion, some secrecy if they were to continue down this path. He'd be lying if he said it hadn't crossed his mind, the potential negative effect their newfound relationship could have on their work life. But to him, she trumped all, as foolish or as idealistic as that may have sounded. So really he was prepared to keep it between them if it meant that they could be more than just partners, despite wanting to shout it from the rooftops. It was the smart thing to do in this situation, at least, for the immediate future.

"Okay Kens, don't worry, we'll go as slow as you like," he caught her hand, "just...if you feel like freaking out or if things are getting too intense or...just please, come to me, okay? Tell me about it. Don't bottle it up, we've both spent years bottling everything up and it didn't get us anywhere..." he trailed off, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips and back again.

Slowly, she nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to expel the insecurities that had plagued her these last couple of weeks, trying not to dwell on what could possibly go wrong in this foray into something deeper with Deeks and instead focus on what could go very, very right. It was enough to cause a small smile to break out onto her face.

"Okay, deal..." she nodded.

"All we need is a good name to solidify our new found status," Deeks clicked his fingers and quirked his eyebrow in his typical fashion of lightening the mood.

"I thought it was Densi?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath bouncing off his cheek.

Deeks swallowed, trying to slow his frantic heartbeat.

"Uh uh, no, we need something more...catchy. Like Brangelina...oh yeah, I can totally stand in a corner with weird lighting and talk about random crap..."

"I'm sure you could...you'd need to grow out your hair though, and I gotta say Deeks, I don't dig the Fabio look," she burst his little bubble with a grin and a sharp tug of his hair.

She really did love running her fingers through it...he loved it too.

"Really?" Deeks grimaced; he didn't think he could pull off a Fabio.

She quirked an eyebrow.

"Okay, no Brad or Angelina then. I'll keep brainstorming..." he trailed off, stepping even closer, and brushing a knuckle across her jaw.

He loved doing that too.

"You really think all we need is a good name and we'll be fine? Sounds like the perfect foundation," Kensi rolled her eyes, a faux-sigh on her lips as she caught his hand on her cheek and held it.

"You kidding? It's the perfect foundation for a relationship. Karty, Beeks, Dyle. Oh no, I got it! Mensi! Oh yeah, that's it…we're totally Mensi…" he trailed off, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Kensi's nose wrinkled, "eww Deeks, don't be gross."

"Not gross…creative," he smirked, sweeping a brunette tendril behind her ear with a grin.

"And gross," she groused before a small smile spread across her face, "you said relationship, by the way…" she trailed off, poking him gently in the chest as her other hand wrapped around the back of his neck.

"I know…" he murmured before chuckling as she closed the gap between them, capturing his lips with hers.

After a moment, Kensi broke the kiss, quickly glancing at her watch.

"Oh would you look at that, it's official January 1st..." she smiled, "guess we got our New Year's kiss in early."

"Now that is a good way to start the year," Deeks grinned as she leaned in to kiss him again.

Although never a believer in false promises, the ex-liaison was for once going to make a New Year's Resolution that he would stick to if it killed him. He was going to do everything in his power to make this work with Kensi. He was not going to screw it up. He was not going to disappoint her or himself.

This was the beginning of something beautiful...

* * *

The sound of clanging chains reverberated down the long corridor as two shackled feet made their long trek towards the very last cell, left, right, left, right, left, right...

"I will be in touch tomorrow, Oliver. Until then, try to get some sleep," Viktor Kajetan nodded as his client, Oliver Bradley, stepped into the cell, the chains rattling against the bars as he waited patiently for the guard to remove them.

"Hey, hey Oliver, look at me," Viktor coaxed, trying to catch his eye, "I'm going to do my very best to—"

"I deserve everything I get Kajetan," Bradley interjected, "there's just one thing I want you to do for me."

The lawyer's eyebrows shot up, not expecting this reaction at all. Trying to reign in his feeling of displeasure, he sighed and enquired, "and what is that?"

There was a beat of silence before Oliver's eyes finally raised from off the floor, they piercing in intensity as he stared down at the shorter man.

"I want a sit down, I will answer anything they want me to," he murmured, just as the guard slid the barred door shut, the sound bouncing off the walls, ringing in the prisoner's ears.

"But," Oliver continued, stepping forward and wrapping his fingers around the cold iron, "I'll only talk to one man...NCIS Agent Marty Deeks.

**A/N: Whew! I just squeezed Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and New Years Eve/Day all into one chapter. That's a lot of holidays hehe ;) **

**Oh! And I know there are some of you that are like "Ck, where is the content on Deeks' birthday?" It's true, originally, I had written about Deeks' birthday but I've decided to postpone it until we see the next episode of NCIS: LA, just to see if it's addressed etc. But I will tease that I will be writing about Deeks' birthday in some way, shape or form in the next chapter, but of course it'll be for next year, January 8****th**** 2014. Is that confusing? Maybe. But you'll see what I mean...anyway, next chapter will be normal, case-wise, team-wise and will be the start of a new arc etc. and will feature some Densi sneaking around at work ;) **

**I also just noticed after posting that I referenced eyebrows a lot in this chapter, not sure what that's about or what quite came over me lol X****D guess I'm an eyebrows gal ;)**

**Please Review**

**~Cortexikid**

***Sorry, I keep randomly channelling Jesse Pinkman. Guess that's the side-effect of getting (and re-watching) the DVD box-sets for Christmas. Side-Note: Breaking Bad is a weird show to watch with your mum...oh and according to Family Guy, I'm supposed to recommend Breaking Bad to everyone so yeah, watch Breaking Bad, it's probably the best show ever, except for maybe The Wire! Lol XD Lame reference is lame. I've never actually seen The Wire :O *gasp***

_**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**_

_**"There's something different about you Kensi..." the psychologist observed through narrowed eyes.**_

_**The agent stilled, willing her face to remain expressionless. Nate was like a bloodhound for body-language and she wasn't going to make it easy for him.**_

_**"You got a new man in your life?" he asked with a grin, raking in her tousled hair and same clothes she wore the day before.**_

_**Kensi shook her head, allowing the irk she felt to cross her features.**_

_**"Nope...not a new man," Nate murmured to himself, "old man then?" **_

_**The brunette took a sip of her coffee, her eyes staring straight ahead.**_

_**"Well, knowing your preferences, he can't be that much older than you so I'm going with an old flame, someone you've dated before," he continued his one-sided conversation, coming to lean against Deeks' desk, arms folded.**_

_**Kensi sat back in her chair, folding her arms, mirroring him, still not breathing a word.**_

_**"Nope, that's not it either," Nate shook his head, a puzzled expression now on his face.**_

_**With a quirk of her eyebrow, the agent leaned forward and rested her elbows on her desk, her eyes reaching his.**_

_**"How do you know it's a man?"**_

_**Nate gaped at her.**_

_**"Whoa, Sapphic undertones, my favourite," Deeks' voice sounded just as he walked up to the pair, his eyes flashing with mirth as he took in the scene before him.**_

_**"So," he turned to his partner, a secretive, knowing glance passing between them, "what did I miss? You know, apart from what I imagine is the incredibly hot woman you're now apparently dating?"**_


	36. Exordium Part I

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 36: Exordium (Part I)**

**A/N: I'M SO SORRY GUYS FOR THE LATE UPDATE! :( My life has been beyond crazy these last few weeks. From producing a student film to a short hospital stint it's just been hectic. I hope to never leave you guys hanging that long ever again :( Oh and I know it's shorter than most of my behemoth chapters but as the title suggests, it's only the beginning of the larger plotline.**

**Just note, when I began writing this chapter, I was mourning the loss of my favourite television show of all time, Fringe. It happened to have one of the most beautifully executed finales in the history of television (in my humble opinion) and left me beyond awed. So, if you guys pick up on some particular weirdness in this chapter, it is due to me being emotionally wrecked by both sorrow and adoration. My love for NCIS: LA is still strong however my readers, so fret not. Hope you enjoy the first instalment of what I hope is the next (big) step in the Densi relationship...**

**As always, spoilers for Season 4!**

**Disclaimer: I am not the owner of any amazing television shows. I hope to be one day, but at present and in this timeline, I am not.**

* * *

**WOTD: EXORDIUM; ****ex·or·di·um ****_noun_****. A beginning. **

Kensi Blye flinched a little as the cold hands brushed against her skin, the cool air-conditioning in the room prompting goose bumps on her flesh, a shiver flowing up her spine.

"Okay Ms Blye, you can put your bra and shirt back on now," Dr. Noble smiled as she walked back around her desk and sat down, shuffling her notes, her head bent to give the woman some privacy (no matter how futile it seemed, considering she'd just seen her partially naked) and waited for her to sit down.

"Well, what's the prognosis?" Kensi asked after as she attentively pulled on her shirt and began buttoning it.

Dr. Noble interlaced her fingers, a pensive expression crossing her flawless dark skin, her face hard to read.

"You sustained an incredibly dangerous injury Ms Blye," she began, her English accent sounding particularly clipped in the quiet room, "the bullet narrowly missed puncturing your aorta and instead ricocheted into your abdomen..." she paused as Kensi sat down in the chair, her arm subconsciously coming up to rest itself around her mid-section as she listened to the doctor speak.

"I know you may not wish to hear this, but it will be a while yet until you are one hundred per cent back to form," she continued, trying to ignore the shadow that had just crossed the brunette's features, "you are healing quite nicely though, a little faster than I would have expected—"

"That's good, right?" the agent couldn't help but interrupt, not liking the turn in conversation.

Dr. Noble stared at her, her hazel eyes gleaming in a chiefly understanding fashion, "yes Kensi, it's good. However, due to your occupation, I have to stress that while you are cleared to go back to work whenever you please, you are not to engage in anything too strenuous...you work in law enforcement, yes?"

Kensi nodded, running through the cover-story that Hetty supplied her with in her head before replying:

"I was just made Detective," she plastered on a fake smile as Noble nodded.

"Congratulations, Detective Blye, I'm sure you will make a wonderful addition to the police force. But for now, no field work, you're to be on strictly desk duty, okay?"

The woman was pulling no punches.

Mutely, Kensi nodded, resigning herself to the fact that she'd have to wait a little longer before she could go back out into the field. She hated being on the sidelines in an active case, but the silver lining remained in that she was clear for work, even if it meant riding a desk for the next few weeks.

"How's the pain? Are you weaning yourself off the medication like I suggested?" the doctor asked, making a note in her files.

"Uh yeah, took my last pill a few days before Christmas," she informed her, remembering fondly how she celebrated with some egg nog on Christmas day.

Noble's eyebrows furrowed.

"I gave you a two month prescription Kensi; you really shouldn't be completely off them this early. But," she paused, holding up her hands, "everybody's threshold is different, if you feel you don't need them, then by all means, stop. Once you're comfortable and the pain isn't too much then that's completely fine."

The brunette nodded for what felt like the hundredth time. She found that her mind was wandering, far out into the extremities of this room, out into the parking lot and into the car that housed a particular blond man with a cheeky grin that was waiting patiently for her to finish her check-up so they could get back to her place, kick up their feet and watch some TV that may or may not be accompanied by some making out and over-the-clothes fun.

It was that thought that sparked a question that came tumbling from her lips before she could stop it:

"What about sex? Is that still off the table?"

She knew if her partner were present, he'd crack some jokes about Sapphic undertones and how she had just propositioned her medical professional but hoped that Dr. Noble didn't have the same sense of humor Deeks did. Judging by the wry smile and the chuckle that erupted from the English woman, Kensi wouldn't bet on it.

"I did say that nothing too strenuous was to be attempted Kensi..." she trailed off with a shake of her head, "give it a few more weeks. After that, it'll be up to you, you'll know yourself if your body is up to it."

Oh she was definitely up to it.

Deeks was too if their last few encounters were anything to go by.

"Okay, thank you, Dr. Noble," the agent stood up and shook the woman's hand before turning on her heel and exiting the room, walking briskly out into the parking lot.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She could see his one hundred watt smile as he watched her approach.

A silent promise passed between them both...

_Soon._

* * *

"I think my mother is a closet hoarder," Marty Deeks said suddenly, breaking the near-silence that had enveloped the room as he and Kensi Blye sat huddled on the couch watching the TV on low sound a few days later.

"Why?" his companion asked, shuffling a little to look at him.

"Because," he grumbled, "she's only been in LA a little over three months and already has enough crap to fill Aladdin's cave," he finished, picking up a small, porcelain figurine from the coffee table and handing it to Kensi.

"Aww," she grinned, "it's a fairy."

"Of course it is," Deeks rolled his eyes, "I wouldn't expect anything else from my mom," he paused for a moment, looking around the stagnant apartment and sighed, "you sure you wouldn't feel more comfortable you know...back at your place?" he asked before clearing his throat, avoiding eye contact with her.

Kensi turned further in her spot so she could study his face.

"Of course I'm comfortable here...why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged, clearly mulling something over in his brain.

Kensi smirked. He was falling for it...

"Why? Are you not comfortable here?" she asked, doing her best to hide the smile that wanted to break out onto her face.

His eyes met hers, a flash of_ something _passing over his face before he could disguise it with a forced grin.

"No, I'm good really, it's just that today is kinda—"

"Why don't we get outta here for a while? It's Saturday and I go back to work on Monday, might as well enjoy the time we've got left..." Kensi cut across him, standing up off the couch, hands on her hips as she stared down at him, waiting for him to respond.

Deeks frowned; his usually light eyes a little dull as he shrugged noncommittally.

"Sure...where do ya wanna go?"

* * *

"O'Brian's? I didn't realize you were in the drinkin' mood Kens," Deeks murmured as Kensi pulled up outside the bar.

"I'm the designated driver, Deeks...but, that doesn't mean I can't partake in what I know is a 'karaoke night extravaganza' if the posters are anything to go by," she smirked, pointing over his shoulder.

Deeks whirled around and saw the advertisement, a slow smile breaking out on his face.

"You always said that the only way you'd ever do karaoke with me is—"

"On threat of death or I'm so drunk I think I'm Gloria Gaynor, yeah, I know...but, I've had a change of heart," she shrugged, taking the key out of the ignition just as her cell phone began ringing.

Picking it up, she glanced at the screen before staring at Deeks.

"I gotta take this. You go on in, I'll be right behind you."

The blond nodded, reaching into the back and grabbing his jacket before stepping out of the car and slipping it on. Kensi watched with slightly widened eyes as his t-shirt rode up a little, exposing his toned stomach. With a bite of her lip, she forced herself to focus and answer her phone, her dark eyes following her partner intently into the bar.

"Kensi," she said as she pressed the accept button. "The eagle has landed...it's a code mom! No, no I didn't make it up. It's—it's a well-known phrase. It is! Look, I'll see you in a minute...okay..."

She sighed, hanging up and rolling her eyes as she pulled open the car door, racing around to the trunk and pulling out the bags before slamming it shut and locking up.

Time to get this show on the road...

* * *

Marty Deeks hunched his shoulders as he walked into the familiar Irish pub that was a hell of a lot louder than usual, spotting the bar tender Eddie almost immediately and walking over to him.

"Long time no see Marty, how are ya?" the elder man called raucously over the music that was wafting from the back room.

"I'm good, thanks. How are you?" Deeks yelled in reply.

The Irish man shrugged cheerfully, "ah, can't complain."

"Didn't think you were the karaoke type, Eddie," the agent commented as the bar tender served up his usual drink.

"Oh well I'm not really, it was a special request," Eddie grinned, nodding to something behind Deeks.

Deeks turned around, catching Kensi's eye before she smiled at Eddie.

"Nice to see ya again Kensi," he grinned, shaking her hand.

"Always a pleasure, Eddie," she winked before turning to her partner, "well Deeks, you ready to dazzle the unsuspecting audience with your drawl?"

"Pfft," Deeks smirked, "I was born ready."

* * *

"_I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky like a tiger, defying the laws of gravity...I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva, I'm gonna go, go, go, there's no stopping me. Burning through the sky yeah, two hundred degrees that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit, I'm travelling at the speed of light, I wanna make a supersonic man outta you!"_

Deeks stopped dead in his tracks, Kensi colliding with his back as his feet glued to the floor, his mouth hanging open, his eyes frozen wide as they stared at the small stage where his mother Angela stood, microphone in hand, belting out the oh-so-familiar lyrics of her favourite Queen song.

"MARTY!" she shrieked when she saw him but his attention was now split with the fact that he was being engulfed by Sam, Callen, Eric, Nell, Nate, Monroe, Woodruffe and Julia—all yelling "SURPRISE!" and "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Many hands clapped him on the back, shoulders, clasped his arms, ruffled his hair (damn Sam and his jealousy of Deeks' flowing locks), all smiling widely as the new Agent's brain scrambled to catch up. It was in that moment that everything began to click into place, Kensi's cagey behaviour over the last few days, the whispering sessions between his mother and Julia, the little smirks that the team didn't think he'd been seeing at work...

"This was your doing," he accused his partner as she stepped around him to stand beside his mother, identical smirks on both their faces. It was eerie.

"I couldn't have done it without Angela, I now know where you get your sneakiness from Deeks," Kensi laughed as Angela bowed lowly, a satisfied twitch to her lips.

"Yeah _Agent_," Sam stressed the word with a smirk, "how's it feel to know that your mom got one over on you?"

Deeks' caught Angela's gaze as she threw him a wink before glancing around the room at every last person there, grabbing a glass of what appeared to be champagne from off the table and smiling brightly.

"It feels great."

* * *

"_Go on now go! Walk out the door! Just turn around now! 'Cause you're not welcome any more!"_

"Deeks shh!" Kensi hissed as she led him out of the elevator, wincing as he tripped over his own feet and stumbled into the wall.

Reaching forward, she clasped him around the waist and shifted him until he was leaning most of his weight on her shoulder, his footsteps heavy as she directed them towards his door.

"_I shudda changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave the key..."_

Kensi rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of keys, where are yours?"

Deeks chuckled, his eyes shining brightly as he regarded his more-than-partner, leaning even further into her until their lips were an inch apart.

"I gotta say Kens...watching you and Nell sing _Girls Just Wanna Have_ Fun tonight has definitely climbed the list of my all-time favourite moments," he grinned dopily, his breath bouncing off her cheek.

Kensi shook her head, "that's great Deeks, really it is but...where are you keys? We gotta get you inside before Mrs. Davis comes to investigate."

"Let her," he replied haughtily, his grin growing cheeky before he leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on her lips, "at least this time we could actually give her something to look at," he finished, leaning back a little to catch her gaze.

The brunette felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Deeks had always been flirtatious, it was practically written into his genetic code but this...this felt like...foreplay. Or at the very least pre-foreplay. Was that a thing? It had been a while since she—

She shook her head again, this time more vigorously to try and rid herself of those thoughts. It was difficult enough trying to not toe that line with Deeks prematurely without those unrelenting fantasies making their presence known again – especially when she was the responsible, sober person here.

"Come on Casanova," Kensi tapped him on the nose before reaching her hand into his jeans pocket and pulling out his keys (ignoring his hooded eyelids) "let's get you inside before you decide to bust out your Frank Sinatra impression—"

"And then I go and spoil it all by sayin' something stupid like I lov—"

"Deeks!"

* * *

"Alright Derek, can you check on Mr. Collins? I got Mr. Yamagata..."

Derek nodded to his co-worker and made his way down the long corridor with an ease of someone who had walked the same halls for many years. Taking a deep breath to ready himself, he halted outside room 222 and knocked on the door.

His response was silence.

With a frown, Derek raised his hand and knocked again, peering in through the small square window and found the room dowsed in darkness. That was strange; it was an hour from lights out.

"TJ? It's Derek, listen, I heard what happened today...I just wanted to check on you," he paused, listening for any noises from inside. When he didn't get any, he bit his lip and pushed open the door, his eyes falling instantly on a hunched figure on the floor.

"TJ what—"

He broke off with a silent yell, his eyes bulging as he flipped the switch on the wall, basking the figure in florescent light, the large pool of crimson liquid dripping ever wider on the cold, white floor.

"DYLAN! DYLAN! CALL 911! SOMEONE'S KILLED MR. COLLINS!"

* * *

"I thought you wanted to go to sleep?"

Marty Deeks looked at his partner over his shoulder as he connected her iPod which he gracefully commandeered from her jacket without her knowledge (or so he thought, he was about as graceful as a new born giraffe right now) to his docking station.

He snorted at that sentence.

"What?" she asked, stepping forward and folding her arms.

"Nothing," he murmured, "it's just...your iPod is connected to my docking station," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

Her eyebrows rose. She assumed that was his feeble attempt at a dirty joke. But it was hard to tell, his humor got even more obscure when he was drunk.

Deeks stared blearily at the device for a moment before he pushed the button and waited, smirking when a familiar song he hadn't heard in a while flowed through the speakers.

"_I threw a wish in the well, don't ask me I'll never tell, I look to you as it fell and now you're in my way..."_

Deeks' lips quirked upwards.

"Didn't peg you as a Carly Rae Jepsen fan..." he said as he began to tap his foot along to the beat almost unbeknownst to himself.

Kensi found herself staring at him as he began to bounce around the living room.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice rose slightly over the music.

"Come on Kens, dance with me...for my birthday," he grinned, "unless you wanna ditch me for dear ol' Jaime this year too?"

She knew it was in jest, that he meant nothing by it but guilt washed over her as she remembered his last birthday as if it were yesterday.

"How many times do I have to apologize for that? The guy saved my life Deeks, I owed him. If it makes you feel any better, it was the most awkward two hours of my life and I spent the whole time thinking about you..."

"Oh really?" he smirked, stopping his ridiculous dancing and staring at her pensively, clearly not as intoxicated as she initially thought.

A heat rose to her cheeks as her eyes lowered to the floor.

"Yeah I—I felt so guilty for missing your birthday. I—I couldn't stop thinking about what you could be doing for the night and...with whom," she cleared her throat, shrugging her shoulders, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," he took a step forward, hands coming to rest on her shoulder, "I wasn't at a club with some blonde," he paused, watching intently for her reaction but she was keeping her face as impassive as she could whilst avoiding his gaze.

After a moment, he heaved a sigh and shrugged, "I spent the night watching re-runs of Breaking Bad with Monty..."

Her dark eyes flickered as she forced herself to meet his gaze, his thumb sweeping across her cheek.

"It doesn't make me feel better actually," she murmured, her hand reaching up to clasp his collar, "I—you're always there for me Deeks, I should have been there for you."

"You've made up for it, and a lot more," he breathed, silently reflecting on how much she had been there for him especially over the last few months, including tonight where he had the most fun he's had in a long time.

"That doesn't excuse it though," she mumbled, "I—sometimes when you'd...you'd be on my mind too much I—I'd get a little defensive, and maybe a little snippy and—"

"Snippy?" he grinned, clearly teasing her choice of words.

Her eyes hardened. Deeks threw her an apologetic look and motioned for her to continue.

"_Snippy_," she pressed, "but that doesn't excuse anything. You're always so thoughtful with me and my birthday and Christmas and a random Tuesday and you—you deserve that too," she finished, picking at some imaginary lint on the front of his shirt.

Deeks bowed his head, as if not believing what she was telling him.

"I'm serious, Deeks," she stepped further into him, placing one hand around his shoulder and another into his hand as the music changed to a slower song.

Gently, she began to sway, he following her lead, letting his chin to rest against her head, his eyes falling closed.

"Thank you for today Kensi...it was the best birthday present ever," he smiled against her hair.

"Me and Nell singing _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_ was your real birthday present. I know how much you love Cyndi Lauper," Kensi replied easily as they turned, their feet shuffling together.

"And I caught it all on camera to forever capture that awesome moment," he responded dreamily, "now all I have to do is somehow hide it from the beast that is Nell Jones so she can't erase it."

Kensi hummed in agreement, content to just let his words wash over her, along with the music, a warm feeling settling in her chest as his arms tightened ever-so-slightly around her.

"If I step on your feet, I'm just gonna go ahead and blame that last shot Sam bought me," he half-whispered into her ear, his lips dragging against her earlobe.

Kensi fought a shiver that certainly had nothing to do with the cold.

"I'll kick your ass if you ruin these shoes with your lack of coordination, Big Foot," she mock scolded.

"Sasquatch, please."

"Because Bigfoot's offensive," she grinned as he brought his hand off her hip up to her hair to tuck it behind her ear.

"And I'll have you know Ms Blye..." he murmured gently, his hot breath causing her eyes to close, "I have_ incredible_ coordination."

Kensi's heart hammered in her chest, a flush rising up her neck and colouring her cheeks. She knew if she were to check her pupils they would be dilated.

"You gonna dance for me, Apollo?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow, opening her eyes to meet his, noticing that his pupils were blown.

Now dirty jokes were filling her head. Damn Deeks for being such a bad influence!

"That all depends," he smirked, twirling her around and pulling her back into him with his good arm, "what kinda salary are we talkin'? I may be an agent now but the pay still sucks..."

She laughed, shaking her head at his boldness.

"I'm sure we could work something out," she bit her lip, knowing she was threading dangerous water here.

Deeks' eyes shone with amusement.

"You want to tickle my pickle?"

Kensi groaned and smacked him on the shoulder.

"If you promise never to say that phrase ever again, I'll flip you for the right side of the bed and...we can take it from there."

His face was comical. His jaw dropped open wide and his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"I'll rock, paper, scissors you for it," he laughed as she pulled him towards his bedroom, "but no east coast rules!"

* * *

She could feel Nate's eyes on her. With a tilt of her head, Kensi raised her eyebrows in the universal sign of the sarcastic _'can I help you?_'

"There's something different about you Kensi..." the psychologist observed through narrowed eyes.

The agent stilled, willing her face to remain expressionless. Nate was like a bloodhound for body-language and she wasn't going to make it easy for him.

"You got a new man in your life?" he asked with a grin, raking in her tousled hair and same clothes she wore the day before.

Kensi shook her head, allowing the irk she felt to cross her features.

"Nope...not a new man," Nate murmured to himself, "old man then?"

The brunette took a sip of her coffee, her eyes staring straight ahead.

"Well, knowing your preferences, he can't be that much older than you so I'm going with an old flame, someone you've dated before," he continued his one-sided conversation, coming to lean against Deeks' desk, arms folded.

Kensi sat back in her chair, folding her arms, mirroring him, still not breathing a word.

"Nope, that's not it either," Nate shook his head, a puzzled expression now on his face.

With a quirk of her eyebrow, the agent leaned forward and rested her elbows on her desk, her eyes reaching his.

"How do you know it's a man?"

Nate gaped at her.

"Whoa, Sapphic undertones, my favourite," Deeks' voice sounded just as he walked up to the pair, his eyes flashing with mirth as he took in the scene before him.

"So," he turned to his partner, a secretive, knowing glance passing between them, "what did I miss? You know, apart from what I imagine is the incredibly hot woman you're now apparently dating?"

Kensi rolled her eyes, gesturing with her coffee cup.

"Just enjoying my first day back on the job," she levelled the psychologist with a stare, "that's all..."

Nate glanced between the two partners, an indistinguishable expression on his face.

Kensi and Deeks kept their cool however. They had been preparing for this type of scrutiny since they enhanced their...thing...so this was just the first hurdle.

No biggie.

But the thundering in Kensi's chest and the sweating of Deeks' palms said otherwise.

Neither had ever been so glad to hear the oh-so-familiar whistling of one Eric Beale.

Three heads tilted up to see the bespectacled man staring down at them, tablet in hand.

"We got a case," he said with a grin before turning on his heel and out of sight.

"What are the odds Hetty will let me go out in the field?" Kensi asked Deeks as the three of them began to climb the stairs.

"Let's just say they are less than favourable," a voice sounded from the top of the stairs.

Kensi, Deeks and Nate halted in their tracks and stared down at the petite brunette.

"You are to be firmly on desk duty for a number of weeks and will need to be reassessed; you know the drill Ms Blye," she finished before she and Nate walked on ahead of the partners.

Kensi was just about to follow them, her gait a little more sunken than usual when Deeks caught her hand. Instantly she stilled, a little tense as she stared down at their adjoined hands. The blond leapt back, his hand jumping as if burned, his eyes a little wild.

"Sorry," he cleared his throat before lowering his voice further, "listen Kens I was just wondering about the other night—"

"You'd remember if you slept with me, Deeks," she smirked, "trust me."

The risky sentence was totally worth the look on his face. Point 1 to Kensi.

"I—I know that we didn't...Kens I just...I wanted to apologize for—"

"Falling asleep? Snoring in my ear for five hours?" she deadpanned.

She was mocking him. She wasn't mad, at all. She knew with the amount of alcohol he had had that there was no way they were getting past second base that night. Truly, she hadn't wanted their first time together to be when he was drunk and she sober. She wanted no alcohol involved, she wanted them both in their right minds, she wanted—

"Go on a date with me," Deeks said suddenly, breaking her from her reverie.

"Huh?" she gaped. If she were to guess she'd say she now had the dumbstruck expression on her face.

"You heard me, Blye," he leaned forward ever so slightly to mumble in her ear, "tonight, after work, we're going on a date. You said that we should take this slow and we will. But I think it's about time you wine and dine me don't you think? After all, I'm a traditional girl..." he trailed off before brushing past her towards Ops.

A small smile spread across her face before she caught herself and schooled her face into something more passive.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

**WAR VETERAN TERRANCE JENSEN COLLINS (42) FOUND DEAD AT THE NATIONAL CENTER FOR WOUNDED WARRIORS*. COLLINS LEAVES BEHIND A LOVING SISTER AND MOTHER...**

Oliver Bradley stared down at the article in the newspaper before sliding it across the table for his lawyer Viktor Kajetan to look at. After a beat of silence, the lawyer's eyes met his client's that were brimming with anger as he pointed a finger into Kajetan's face.

"This is why I wanted to talk to Agent Marty Deeks. To prevent this and more from happening. Think you can manage to get him on the damn phone now?!"

* * *

**A/N: So I busted my knee pretty badly and can't walk for the next six weeks but every cloud has a silver lining and that means I'll actually have some time for writing so hopefully the next update won't take a quarter as long as the last once I take my pain meds and don't attempt to run any marathons ;)**

**Oh! Something I noticed in the episode "Paper Soldiers." They have Rose's last name on her tag as 'Carlyle.' Now, I could be completely wrong but I could've sworn Rose's last name was Swartz or Schwartz or some variation in earlier seasons. Regardless, I will change it in my previous chapters accordingly.**

***The name of the clinic is completely fictitious; any similarities in name are completely coincidental. **

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'm quite nervous as in this arc I'll be tackling another tough subject from one of our team-member's pasts that the show hasn't touched upon much so a lot of it will be conjecture and whatever other crap my brain decides to attack with me with at 4am when I'm trying and failing to sleep. So yeah. There's that.**

**The next chapter will be A LOT longer!**

**Please Review!**

**~Cortexikid x**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

**Deeks stared blankly at her.**

"**And how exactly am I supposed to charm my way into a little old lady's apartment without coming across as a complete pervert?"**

**Kensi shrugged.**

"**Maybe you could dazzle them with your Margaret Thatcher impression?"**


	37. Inamorato Part II

**Life, Lies and Video Surveillance**

**By Cortexikid**

**Chapter 37: Inamorato (Part II) **

**A/N: So guys, I think we're at the home stretch now...just about ten-ish more chapters to go. I can't believe it :O Without further ado, here's the next update, quick as promised. It'll be my penultimate arc, I think, so I hope you like it! :)**

**Oh! What did you guys think of "The Box"? (The capitals are necessary I think XD) Let the speculation begin!**

**Disclaimer: Been writing this fic for about 11 months now :O but NCIS: LA still isn't mine.**

* * *

**WOTD: INAMORATO; in·am·or·at·o **_**noun**_**. Flame, male-lover, beloved.**

"He's called Heisenberg?"

"Yep."

"And you're keeping him?"

"Yep. Well, temporarily."

"You're keeping the fish of the man who tried to blow you up?" Kensi asked for clarification, convinced that her partner (_more than partner!_) had finally lost whatever sanity he had.

Deeks merely shrugged at her, his gleaming smile reflected in the large tank where the Blue-Freckled Cichlid fish was now swimming.

"You realize that he's not Bryan Cranston, right?" she poked him in the shoulder, his awed expression at the fish making her smirk.

"He's not?" he gaped before pouting, "man, and I always thought Bryan Cranston had gills and an affinity for swimming in circles," Deeks replied, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

The brunette rolled her eyes, sauntering over to his couch and sitting down, her hand coming to rest around her abdomen, pleased to only feel the slightest pinch of bandage against her skin.

"So tell me again, what exactly did Bradley say to you? Word for word..."

The ex-cop continued staring at his new pet for a moment before turning from the tank and walking towards Kensi, folding his arms.

"He told me he knows exactly what's going on down at The National Center for Wounded Warriors...and why Mr. Collins was killed..."

* * *

_One Day Earlier..._

"War Vet Terrance Jensen Collins, aged forty-two, was found dead in his room on Wednesday evening by one of the night-nurses. The COD is blunt force trauma to the back of the skull and there appears to be no sign of a struggle in the room. We're still waiting on a full report from LAPD but it has been ruled a homicide and due to Mr. Collins' affiliation with NCIS, the case has been handed over to us," Nell Jones was saying as Deeks walked into Ops, a few steps in front of Kensi after making their plans for a date later that night.

Due to the severity of the current situation he was trying extra hard not to let the 100 watt grin that wanted to break out onto his face at the thought of a date with Kensi Blye rise to the surface but it was incredibly difficult. He'd finally done it! He'd finally asked out the literal woman of his dreams and she didn't kick him in the nom-de-plums or threaten to shave all his hair off while he slept or anything. Today was a good day.

Well, not for Terrence Collins.

Grimacing at his thoughts that were in bad-taste, the blond spoke up, "no sign of a struggle suggests a blitz attack, he was taken by surprise, struck from behind," he murmured, his eyes glued to Kensi as she walked into Ops and halted about three feet from him.

At the teams' murmur of agreement with Deeks' hypothesis, Kensi looked to Nell, "you said he has an affiliation with NCIS?"

The intelligence-analyst nodded, her eyes darting to Hetty for a moment before tapping on her tablet, three photographs appearing on the screen.

"This is Special Agent Megan Collins, sister to Terrance," Eric piped up, gesturing to the first picture that was off Megan's driver's licence and then to the second which was one of she and her brother smiling together, clearly taken from Terrance's personal affects.

"She is also an Agent, part of the Georgia Green Team," Nell added, pointing to the last photograph which was from Megan's NCIS badge where her ID number could be seen.

"First Red now Green, what, are we trying to make an NCIS rainbow?" Deeks murmured under his breath, pleased to see a small smirk form on Kensi's lips, "because that sounds kinda awesome. I still think we should have a colour. Personally, I like gold. The Gold Team. Team Gold. It has a nice ring to it..."

His response was silence.

"Mr Callen," Hetty turned to the agent as if Deeks had never spoken, "it has come to my attention that the Red and Green team have collaborated on a number of cases together so it would be beneficial for you to contact Ms Summerskill and see if she can shed any light on the situation, get a lock on Ms Collins and determine if this was a personal attack on her family. Also, I'd like for you to get in touch with Special Agent Twirling, the head of Green Team and request a sit down with them. Last thing any of us needs is a highly trained, incredibly dangerous, grieving sister going off on a personal vendetta and mission for justice."

Callen nodded, not looking particularly psyched about any of what Hetty had just said. The team were wise enough not to make any comment on he having to contact Paris, even if Sam's face was practically screaming it in various languages and at rising decibels.

"On it," G merely responded, taking leave of the room, pulling out his cell phone without a backwards glance.

The rest of the team watched him go, awaiting further instructions.

"Mr Deeks, Mr Monroe, I want you to go to the crime scene and interview the night-nurse that found the body. Mr Hanna, I want you to go to the Collins' family home and interview his mother. We might get lucky and have Ms Collins already back and not on an active assignment..." Hetty trailed off, before turning on her heel and beginning to walk out of the room.

"Oh and Ms Blye," she halted, but didn't turn around, as Kensi's eyes widened, her heart speeding up at the idea of actually getting something to do on this case, "I believe there are some documents that need filing and some paper work that still needs filling. Now would be a great time to catch up, don't you think?"

And with that she was gone.

Another silence descended on the room as Kensi gaped at the empty spot where her boss used to be. After a beat or two, Deeks shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing from one team member to the next.

"Was it just me or did she say there's an Agent Twirling? How awesome would it be if their first name was Baton?"

* * *

_Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 12:30pm_

Thunderous blows reverberated around the room, a steady rhythm ever building as unsteady breaths escaped chapped lips. Hazel, squinted eyes glared at the swinging bag as a strong, left fist collided with it, followed by a right, again and again and again, a thick sheen of sweat glistening upon stretches of dark skin.

"Megan...Meg..." a voice called but the fists never stopped their metrical pace, thumping left, right, left, right...

"Special Agent Collins!"

The fists halted, shoulders tightening, chest heaving.

"Leave me alone Liam," a jaded, agitated voice replied.

Footsteps drew nearer, stopping just behind Agent Collins.

"Meg...talk to me," Liam Carbury urged gently, stepping around his partner and folding his arms across his chest, his eyes boring into hers.

"I said I don't wanna talk. I don't need to talk. What I need is to get the hell to Los Angeles but seen as Twirling decided that that's not an—"

"We're leaving in five minutes," Carbury interjected, holding up his hand. At his partner's dazed expression, he elaborated, "Twirling just got a call from Special Agent G Callen from the Los Angeles Office of Special Projects. They have taken over your brother's case and are asking for a sit-down with us tomorrow."

Meg took a moment to let those words wash over her.

"I—I gotta call my mom back, let her know I'll be home sooner than I thought," she murmured, taking her cell phone out of her pocket.

Liam nodded, backing out slowly, giving his partner some space.

"It'll take over a day to get back to LA so try and get as much rest as you can Meg, I'll keep you updated on everything," he promised, throwing her a small smile before turning on his heel and making his way to his bunk room.

As he slid the door shut behind him, he felt his friend and colleague Chase Grayson stand up from his bunk and wait for him to speak. When he didn't, instead just crossing the tiny room and sitting down on his own bunk, eyes glued to his clasped hands, Chase spoke up:

"How is she?"

Liam shrugged, "she's punching the crap out of the bag right now, was on the phone to her mother for the last two hours and now has to call her again...so yeah, she's holding it together as best she can, you know how tough Collins is."

"I know she'd kick all our asses from here to Tennessee if she knew we were talking about her," a new voice came from the doorway where their tech-analyst Kim Hanway stood.

"Ain't that the truth," Chase echoed.

"So...Los Angeles?" Kim continued, stepping further into the room, sliding the door behind her and sitting on the edge of one of the empty bottom bunks.

"Yeah," Liam nodded, "the Office of Special Projects caught TJ's case."

Kim bit her lip, her brow furrowing in thought, "I've heard rumors about the OSP. Is it true that their boss is—"

"Hetty Lange? Yeah," Liam interrupted with a grimace, "Claire—you know from the Red Team? She told me a little about her and the OSP guys a while back. They sound...intriguing."

A short silence descended the team before Chase let out a small sigh.

"I guess we'll find out just how intriguing tomorrow."

* * *

"Promise me."

"I'll do better than that, partner. I pinky swear," Marty Deeks grinned at his partner, holding out his pinky finger in front of her face.

"You know," Kensi said, smacking his hand away, "sometimes when you say things, I genuinely think that you're reading lines from a script written by a twelve-year-old girl."

Zack Monroe chuckled as he watched the pair, his eyes darting back and forth between the two.

"You see what I have to deal with on a daily basis?" Kensi turned to Monroe with a tilt of her head, "all I can say is – good luck. And whatever you do, don't let him pick the radio station."

Zack opened his mouth to reply but Deeks jumped in before he could say a word.

"Hey, hey, you're always saying that the driver picks the station so I'm taking the opportunity to educate young Monroe here in the fine lyrical ways of Mister—"

"Justin Timberlake?" his partner interjected with a snort, having complete knowledge of the content on her partner's iPod and wasn't afraid to let the outside world be privy to it too.

"I think I'm good on the JT front Deeks, thanks," Monroe smirked as he and Kensi exchanged a teasing glance.

"See, Deeks? The man has taste," she pressed, gently taking a seat at her desk, ignoring the mountain of paperwork in front of her.

"Says the Queen of Techno and secret die-hard fan of My Chemical Romance," Deeks folded his arms with a pout.

"I like techno and My Chemical Romance are always great to listen to when you're pissed off," Monroe grinned as Kensi let out a laugh.

"Thank you Monroe," she turned to Deeks with a pointed look, "see? Taste."

Deeks looked between the two, eyes flickering from Kensi to Monroe and back again, holding his partner's gaze.

"Yo Deeks, don't you guys have somewhere to be?" Sam's voice carried towards the bull pen from the doorway.

Without breaking eye-contact with his partner and a small smirk touching his lips, Deeks called over his shoulder, "we'll be right there, Sam...when Kensi finishes flirting with the new guy."

Kensi leaned forward a little in her chair, looking up at him with her chin in her palm, "technically out of the two of you," she gestured between him and Monroe, "you would be the new guy, _Agent_ Deeks," she finished with a wink.

The blond gaped at her, apparently rendered speechless. The brunette took that as an opportunity.

"Promise me, Deeks."

After a beat, he shook his head and cleared his throat, trying and failing to will the blood to abandon his cheeks.

"Alright Kens," the _very_ recently-appointed agent spoke, hoping that he was distracting her from the fact that she made him blush, "I promise I'll keep you updated on the case. You won't die of boredom, not on my watch."

"Good," Kensi nodded, "and don't forget to bring me back some Ding-Dongs. And Twinkies. And those donuts from that new place."

Deeks tipped his imaginary hat and faux-bowed, his eyes shining brightly at Kensi, "as you wish..."

* * *

"So...how's Paris?"

G Callen threw a side-glance at his partner as they made their way to the home of Terrance Collins' mother, Veronica.

"I wouldn't know...haven't been in France in years," he replied with an arched brow before turning his attention to the sights flashing by the window.

"Very funny," Sam shook his head, "I'm sure she hasn't heard that a thousand times. Seriously G, how are she and the Red Team doin'?"

Callen let out an audible sigh, knowing it was pointless, that his partner wasn't the type to just let stuff like this go and knew it was less effort to just answer his questions.

"Great. Busy. She couldn't talk long, just said that she had met Megan Collins personally and thought she was a good agent. She gave me a brief run-down of the Green Team and patched me through to Agent Twirling," he finished, his eyes still out the window.

He could practically hear the cogs turning in Sam's brain as he fought to come up with an appropriate response. After a second or two he just shrugged and asked:

"She mention when you guys could go for that beer?"

And there it was. It took exactly 6.9 seconds for it to come to that. Sam was getting impatient in his old age.

"No Sam, she didn't mention anything about beer. It was a work-call," he responded pointedly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever G," he dismissed him with a wave before pulling up outside the Collins' house and turning off the ignition, eyes glued on the small, quaint, family home.

Now came the tough part of the job...

* * *

"Anyone ever tell you, you look a lot like a taller Scott Baio?" Deeks asked after about five minutes in the car and about thirty seconds into 'Sexy Back.' Damn Kensi for putting Justin Freakin' Timberlake in his head. He was better than that, dammit.

"Anyone ever tell you, you make a lot of pop culture references?" Monroe answered, tilting his head in the other man's direction.

"Yeah well, guess I'm just written that way," he smirked, thinking about the comment Kensi made about him earlier.

"So, what's this place again?" the younger agent asked after a beat of silence, flicking through the folder on his lap when they were stopped in traffic.

"The National Center for Wounded Warriors, it's a clinic that specializes in housing and treating soldiers and members of law enforcement for an array of conditions from the physical to PTSD, that kinda thing..." Deeks trailed off, pressing on the gas as the light went green and forcing down a strange fluttering in his stomach that formed when he spoke about the clinic.

Weird.

"So, it says here, Terrance Jensen Collins was a patient for the last eighteen months but there are no details of his condition or what led him to the clinic in the first place," Monroe murmured, almost to himself as his eyes raked over the incredibly small file that Nell and Eric managed to obtain (legally) online.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to get more out of the staff," Deeks shrugged as he turned onto the interstate.

"Yeah," Monroe groused, "like that won't be like pulling teeth."

* * *

Bored.

Bored, bored, bored.

Was there another word for bored? She flicked through her mental thesaurus as she balanced a pencil on her nose like a pro.

Spent. Jaded. Uninterested. Disinterested. Fatigued. Inattentive. Disenchanted. Disentranced. Discontented. Satiated. Wearied. Listless. Lackadaisical. Supine. Insouciant. Phlegmatic.

Okay, she could have made those last four up, she wasn't sure, but damn, was she bored! It may be an overused and plain word but it was a good one. It summed up exactly what she was feeling right now, had been feeling all morning, in fact. Well, maybe it didn't sum up everything she felt but the main one, at least. All the others – pissed off, frustrated, angry, lonely...those weren't her top priority, those weren't slowly but surely driving her insane.

Was it still only 11am?

How was that even possible!?

"Keep up the practice, Ms Blye, and you may be able to give Lucy down at the water park a run for her money," a voice broke through her reverie, causing the pencil to slip from her nose and clatter down onto her desk.

"Lucy?" Kensi asked with a bite to her lip as Hetty made herself visible (from God knows where) and stood in front of her desk.

"The seal, Ms Blye. She's quite talented at balancing balls and buckets on her nose," the Operations Manager clarified with an arch of her eyebrow.

"Oh..." the younger woman replied for lack of a better response, finding the image of Hetty at a water park somewhat strange. Still, it wasn't as bad as that time Deeks imagined her trying to get onto rides at Disneyland.

"Something amusing?" Hetty asked, alerting Kensi to the fact that a grin had spread across her face at her partner's smirk once he conjured that particular image of their bantam boss.

"I...uh—"

"I gather it's not your paperwork that brought such a beam to your face," Hetty interjected, something Kensi couldn't put a finger on in her tone, clasping her hands and holding them at her abdomen.

When her agent failed to respond, Henrietta continued:

"I know you detest being out of the field, Kensi," she paused, "and believe me, I hate taking you out of it—it's where you flourish best. But, rules are rules and you know how much of a stickler Owen Granger can be," she tilted her head, her lips pursed as if she herself were conjuring a certain image, "but, it won't be forever, remember that."

Kensi nodded, not being particularly psyched up by Hetty's supposed pep talk.

"I know Hetty," she murmured, flicking open another batch of paperwork and grasping a pen.

"You and Mr. Deeks are quite the pair, Ms. Blye. It would never be my intention to keep either of you away from your work if I could help it..."

Kensi dragged her eyes up from the paper as found that Hetty had moved closer to her desk, her bespectacled gaze boring into her. Her throat went dry at that stare, her mouth hanging open a fraction. After a few seconds, she forced herself to swallow and form a coherent sentence:

"Uh...thanks Hetty, I know," she rasped, a line creasing her forehead as she watched Hetty nod once as if they had just settled an argument and turned on her heel, walking away.

It was only when she was out of sight did Kensi realize she was holding her breath. Once she expelled it and took in a few deep breaths, she let her boss's words wash over her, a mass of something heavy and uncomfortable forming in her pit of her stomach.

Why the hell did that just sound like a warning?

* * *

A large, Victorian-styled building with dozens of small, rectangular windows laid facing out onto a large garden in the bright, morning sun of west Los Angeles. Just as they passed the impressive stone feature with the words _'The National Center for Wounded Warriors, est. 1990'_ Marty Deeks felt compelled to break the silence.

"I feel like McMurphy is gonna jump out behind a tree any second now," he remarked as he and Zackary Monroe made their way across the parking lot, towards the large green, surrounded by foliage, directly in front of the impressive building.

At his temporary-partner's silence, the ex-cop threw him a sideways glance.

"Randle Patrick McMurphy? One Flew Over The Cuckoo's—"

"I got it, Deeks. Again with the references," Monroe shook his head in amusement.

"Great book, great movie...although, I'm pretty sure McMurphy isn't actually a real Irish surname," he said almost to himself as they approached the long row of steps up to the giant oak doors.

"Actually, it is," Monroe replied as they flashed their badges to the guard and waited to be escorted inside, "it's not as popular as 'Murphy' but it does exist. It's derived from the Gaelic word 'murchadh' which means sea warrior."

Deeks stared at him.

"I'm half-Mexican bro, on my mom's side," he shrugged, "my dad's side are all mostly from Galway."

"That's...surprising..." the ex-detective grinned as they saw a man in a long white coat approach them.

"Yeah, the Catholic guilt is stifling," Monroe smirked just as the tall, raven-haired doctor halted in front of them.

"Welcome gentlemen, I'm Doctor Leo Murphy."

Deeks could not contain the chuckle that erupted from him. Monroe bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too widely.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Doctor. I'm Detective—_Agent_ Deeks and this is my colleague Agent Monroe," he gestured to Monroe before shaking the medical-professional's hand.

"Well, what is it, detective or agent?!"

The two agents stared at the doctor for a moment, taken aback by his exasperation.

"Sorry, sorry, I apologize," Doctor Murphy grimaced, "it's just—it's been a little hectic here the last two days after...what happened to TJ, everybody is a little on edge. We—the staff—have been trying to keep things as hush hush as we can, we don't want to alarm any of the patients," he paused, gesturing for them to follow him.

"So, in the spirit of discretion, I would appreciate it if you didn't question any non-staff members or announce your occupation to any patients," he halted abruptly outside a door marked 'Staff Lounge', "not until you've fully questioned all staff. In the meantime, if anybody asks, and trust me, they will, you ignore them or think of a plausible lie. I will not have havoc breaking out. Some of these people are ex-law enforcement and I can't afford them going all Colombo when they find out their friend has been...has been—" the doctor broke off, waving his hand to dismiss the unspoken word and motioned for the agents to enter the staff lounge.

"You'll find Nurse Reed in there; he's the one that found...TJ. Please Agent, wait until we've broken the news to the patients ourselves tomorrow morning before you question any of them, it needs to be handled delicately. Also, for most patients, a supervisor will need to be present when you speak to them so please, when you're finished with my staff, let me know and I will accommodate you," Doctor Murphy finished before turning on his heel and walking away, head held high with an air of ostentation.

Deeks and Monroe watched him go with raised eyebrows before each shrugging at the other and walking through the door, badges held up as they approached a tall, brunet man with blue eyes.

"Derek Reed?"

The man turned towards Deeks' voice, his skin ashen, dark circles under his eyes, his head hung lowly.

"I'm Derek," he murmured, his voice raspy, as if he were in pain.

"Hi, I'm De—Agent Deeks and this is my associate Agent Monroe, NCIS. Would you mind answering some questions?"

It was as if a switch had been flipped in Reed, transforming him from a demure and sluggish, clearly grief-riddled man to a jittery, animated, speaking-a-mile-a-minute man as he launched into every last detail he could think of about Terrance Collins, not even pausing long enough for Deeks or Monroe to jump in with an actual question.

"And he—he was such a good guy, TJ. He'd been here just over 18 months and was making so much progress and he...he'd give you a cigarette even if it was his last one, y'know? He was just that kinda guy. Always asking everyone how they were, how their day was going but never worried about himself, always made sure that he called his mom every second day to update her on his progress and made sure she got the flowers he sent for Mother's Day and her birthday...he—he just—was a good man. Why would someone wanna ever hurt him I...don't know," Reed shrugged, eyes lowered to the floor, a shiver wracking his body, his thoughts clearly far away, perhaps back with TJ's cold and lifeless body.

"Nurse Reed," Deeks took his eventual pause as finally an opportunity to interject, "I was wondering if you could tell us why it was exactly that Mr. Collins was admitted here 18 months ago?"

Reed's eyes grew a little wide at the question, his face contorting into something of discomfort, before his focus tilted to the left, looking over Deeks' shoulder, "I—I can't divulge that sort of information Agent but, if you want to discuss it with someone, there's your guy. Jack! Jack!" he called to a man at the other end of the large room that had his back to them.

Slowly, the man turned and began walking towards them.

"Jack, these are the agents here to investigate TJ's death," Derek introduced them before holding up his hands in apology and stepping away from them, out of the room.

"Agent Deeks," Deeks gestured to himself and then to Monroe, "Agent Monroe, NCIS."

"Nice to meet you Agents," Jack shook Monroe's hand, then Deeks', his emerald eyes locking with the cerulean as they firmly shook, "what can I do for you?"

The blond raked in the brunet's face, also showing signs of fatigue like Reed's, sporting a five o' clock shadow despite it being barely past 11:30am, the skin around his eyes marred with bags and weary lines, his lips turned down in a perpetual frown. Collins' murder really was taking effect on the staff.

"We were speaking to your colleague about Mr. Collins' condition and he referred us to you...we were wondering, seen as patient confidentiality no longer applies after death, could you shed any light on what instances led to his admission into the clinic?"

Jack's broad shoulders tensed a little at the question but after a few moments they relaxed and slumped a little, a frown spreading across his face.

"I suppose, due to the circumstances, he wouldn't mind me letting law enforcement know," he sighed, before motioning to a circular table with chairs a few feet from them, "please, come and sit down. Would you like some coffee?"

After they said their 'no thank yous' and sat down, Jack took a deep breath, as if the very thought of divulging his client's secrets physically pained him.

"I'm TJ's councillor. He began treatment with me 18 months ago for severe depression and PTSD after two tours in Afghanistan. He had been home for over a year but just wasn't assimilating back into regular life and one day he...snapped. Had a complete breakdown, flipped out and beat the crap out of his boss, broke the guy's arm and fractured two ribs. He blacked out, couldn't remember what he'd done when he woke up in a holding cell. He's lucky the guy didn't end up pressing charges. That's when his mom and sister suggested that he come take a look at this place, and when he did, he decided to stay here and try to get better. And he was. Getting better," Jack paused, interlacing his fingers and planting then on the table in front of him.

"We get all types in here, Agent Deeks. Ex-military from soldiers to SEALs to marines, ex-law enforcement from officers to lieutenants to police commissioners. Men and women all plagued with physical and mental conditions from their careers and personal lives and we try our best here to help them in any way we can. TJ Collins was a good man, I've no idea why anyone would want to harm him but I will help you bring whoever did to justice. Just let me know what you need..."

"Thank you for your cooperation Mister...?" Monroe trailed off.

"Bennett," Jack replied, "but please, call me Jack, everybody does."

"Well Jack," Deeks piped up, "can you show us to Mr. Collins' room, please?"

* * *

Soft sniffles echoed around a small living room as Veronica Collins, mother to the recently deceased TJ, fought to compose herself.

"I'm sorry...what was the question?" she croaked, taking a handkerchief from out of her pocket and blowing her nose softly.

"Your son, Mrs. Collins," Sam Hanna prompted gently, "we were wondering if there were any changes in his behaviour leading up to his death?"

The elder woman paused a moment in contemplation, glancing over to a picture of her son in his college graduation gown, a small but sad smile on her face.

"He—he was a little more on edge than usual," she began tentatively, "he...said something about a new patient bothering some of the more fragile patients. He didn't go into detail but, if there was something Terrance despised was innocent people being picked on. I remember a friend of his was bullied in high school and Terrance would get so mad at the bullies, was always standing up for the little guy. He was...he was a kind soul, my boy. A gentle giant. Why—why would someone hurt my Terr—" she broke off, wracked with a sob.

Sam leaned forward; his hand enveloping the woman's, squeezing it gently.

"We are going to do everything we can to bring the person who did this to justice, ma'am."

Veronica nodded, sniffling a little before her large, brown eyes rose to meet Sam's.

"Well then, you better start with Jeremy."

Callen sat straighter in his chair.

"Who's Jeremy?"

Veronica turned to Callen, dabbing her eye with her handkerchief.

"He's the man that tried to kill my son before..."

* * *

"Hey, you guys get the call too?" Callen asked Deeks and Monroe as they all happened to convene at the entrance of OSP at nearly the exact same time.

"Yep, Eric said something about a break in the case?" Deeks asked as they all traipsed through the door, towards the bull pen.

"Yeah, that's what he told us too," Sam piped up, "you have any luck at the clinic?"

Deeks and Monroe shared a glance before the latter replied, "marginal. We spoke to a couple of staff members before Eric called us back to base camp."

"I still say the Bat Cave sounds cooler," Deeks interjected.

"You're no Batman, Deeks," Kensi Blye's voice sounded from behind them.

"You're more of a Robin," she continued with a cheeky grin as they all filed into the bullpen, watching as she tilted her head at them from her desk.

"No way, Callen's more of a Robin than me," Deeks pouted just before Callen lashed out and punched him in the arm.

"Ow! See?" the blond flailed. "The man has cat-like reflexes!"

"Wouldn't that make him Cat-Woman?" Nell Jones asked from the top of the stairs just before Eric let out his signature ear-splitting whistle.

Callen glared up at them, pointing his finger straight at Nell, "do not encourage them..."

"Aw, come on, G," Sam clapped him on the back as they all made their way up to Ops, "let the kids have their fun."

Kensi and Deeks shared a grin as they walked up the stairs behind them, Monroe following.

"Yeah Robin, listen to Alfred..." Monroe smirked as they entered Ops, secretly pleased at the scandalized look Sam threw him and the chuckles that erupted from the rest of the team.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Deeks nudged him with his elbow.

"Ahem..." Eric faux-coughed, "to get to why I called you back to The Bat Cave," he paused to smirk at Deeks, "there has been some interesting evidence found on Collins' tox-screen."

His paused again for dramatic effect. Nell rolled her eyes.

"He had a high level of Ketamine in his system, a fatal level," the tech-analyst sighed, "looks like someone wanted to make doubly sure this guy died."

"So," Callen stepped forward, eyeing the toxicology report on the screen, "this guy was drugged and hit over the head with a blunt object? Just what did Collins do that warranted that kinda over-kill?"

* * *

"Admittedly, it's been a while since I got my head shrunk but I don't remember it being this…sneaky."

Nate Getz jumped, standing with his back rod-straight on the spot, chancing a sheepish glance over his shoulder.

"Uh...hey, Deeks," he grinned far too widely before turning, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Hey Nate..." the new agent replied, tilting his head to the side, confusion etched across his face, "any particular reason why you're poking around my desk, buddy?"

The psychologist cleared his throat nervously, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"I-I thought that you guys were gonna be a while up in Ops so—"

"So you thought you'd slip away and rifle through my desk Nancy Drew style?" Deeks interrupted, a confused grin on his face as he raked in the shrink's discomfort. He wasn't mad or on the defense but it did bewilder him why Nate would be snooping around the bull pen, made him a little suspicious, actually.

"Hey Nate, you uh...you never did tell us why you're back in town," the ex-detective pointed out as he stepped towards his desk, eyebrows shooting up as he saw the taller man tense a little at his approach before circling him and taking a seat at his desk, his fingers lacing behind his flaxen hair as he regarded him with a steady stare.

Nate's dark eyes widened a fraction, barely noticeably really, but Deeks was trained to look for anomalies after all and the shrink may as well of been a neon sign flashing 'up-to-something!'

"Hetty may have called me," he replied with a shrug of his left shoulder, apparently not elaborating.

A crease formed above Deeks' nose.

"Hetty called you and said what?" he prodded, subtly looking around to check if the woman in question was somehow ninja-ing somewhere nearby.

Nate shuffled his feet uncomfortably and unclasped his hands from behind his back, a small manila folder in his grasp. Deeks' eyes glued to it, barely registering the psychologist's next words.

"She may have alluded to an event where you—"

"So this has something to do with my…_meltdown_ a while back?" Deeks interjected with a wince, as if the words were forcefully pulled from his throat. He swallowed down the burning taste of bile.

"You quit your job, dealt with your partner being shot and switched careers in a matter of days," Nate stated simply, as if he somehow needed reminding. "And let's not forget the minor incident of getting blown up in front of your friends and colleagues recently..." he trailed off, noticing that the new agent was transfixed on what was in his hands.

"But," he continued, "I wouldn't use the word 'melt down', Deeks. It is a perfectly normal reaction to—"

"And this somehow requires you going all Sherlock Holmes minus the deerstalker in the bullpen while the rest of us slum it up in Ops?" the ex-detective interrupted again, a slight edge to his tone now.

Nate's eyes shone with something Deeks couldn't quite name.

"Slum it?"

"Semantics. Figure of speech. Don't start reading into things that don't need to be read into, Nate," he murmured, standing up from his desk and holding out his hand.

"So, I take it that's the file. You know, the one where all my accomplishments and screw ups go, the one that let's Granger know if I'm an inch away from losing my marbles, spilling government secrets and jumping off an interstate," he deadpanned with a twitch of his lips.

Nate stared at him, motionless.

"Well?" Deeks asked, wiggling his fingers in mid-air, "am I allowed to take a peek or is it for shrink's eyes only?"

Before Nate could answer, the rest of the team began to descend the stairs, chatting loudly.

"Don't get too comfortable Monroe, I'm a fast healer," Kensi laughed with a roll of her eyes as the agent snorted.

"After the first day I had Kensi, I don't think comfortable is a word I'll ever be too familiar with in this job," he replied, a hint of tenseness in his tone but a small smile on his face.

Kensi nodded, eyes lowered, it suddenly hitting her how traumatic it must have been for Monroe to find her like that, shot and bleeding out on a dirty warehouse floor. With a shake of her head, she forced a grin and punched him lightly in the shoulder, catching Deeks' eye.

"Yeah well, everybody knows that we gotta haze the new guy so I'd watch out if I were you...Hetty's not the only one with a girl-scout badge in craftiness and deception."

Deeks snorted, drawing attention to himself, five pairs of eyes landing on him.

"Sorry," he smirked, holding up his hands, "I'm just imagining Hetty in a girl-scout uniform."

Sam stepped forward and clapped him on the back.

"Whatever floats your boat, Deeks."

The blond grimaced as Callen stepped around him.

"Those would be some cookies I'd never buy," he said under his breath as his sat at his desk.

"Not even if she had Samoas, G? I thought they were your favourite?" Sam grinned widely, his eyes shining with mirth.

"No, that's just what I told Michelle when your cute but cunning daughter tried to sell me fourteen boxes by guilt-tripping me for missing her birthday party last year," Callen replied with a faux-glare.

"How many boxes did she end up selling you, Callen?" Kensi asked with an amused tilt of her head as she took her seat next to him.

The agent murmured something indecipherable under his breath.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Deeks asked, leaning forward and cupping his ear.

"Sixteen," Callen mumbled barely above a whisper.

The team broke out in laughter as Sam chuckled, "that's my girl!"

"She learns from the best, Mr. Hanna," Henrietta Lange's voice broke through the jovial atmosphere.

Slowly, everybody turned to look at her but she only had eyes for one person.

"Mr. Deeks...a word, please."

* * *

"You're kidding,"

"I seldom kid, Mr. Deeks. But believe me, if I were, you'd know it," Hetty tilted her head at him from behind her desk.

"Why me? I mean, Sam has more experience—"

"But you're ex-law enforcement, Mr Deeks, and the man Jeremy that Collins' mother told Mr Hanna and Mr Callen about is an ex-detective. You two speak the same language, can build up a rapport. As of now, he is our prime suspect, so time is of the essence," the bespectacled woman said with a pointed look.

"For…for how long?" the blond was almost afraid to ask.

Hetty tapped her chin, her eyes skyward for a moment.

"For as long as it takes, Mr Deeks."

* * *

"You're kidding."

"That's exactly what I said," Deeks grumbled in reply to his shocked partner, dragging his palms down his face as he sat at his desk.

"For how long?" Sam asked, his interest peaked at the recent turn of events.

"For as long it takes," Deeks made a face as he echoed Hetty's words.

"Didn't you run into any patients today? Won't they recognize you?" Callen pondered.

"We didn't get a chance to interview any patients today, just staff members," Monroe piped up from his spot in the extra chair in the bullpen.

"So the staff knows that you're NCIS?" Kensi frowned.

"Well, three of them. Doctor Murphy, Nurse Derek and Collins' councillor, Jack," Deeks shrugged, "so you guys can handle those interviews. No serious red flags yet. For now, I'm gonna focus on our prime suspect Jeremy Thyne."

"He's an ex-cop," the voice of Nate Getz interjected as he entered the bullpen, "so hopefully you two can bond over shared experiences, traumas…"

Deeks stared at the psychologist, the uncomfortable feeling rising in his gut again. But, before he could reply, his cell-phone began to ring. With a sigh, he glanced down at the screen to see 'blocked' and frowned, but answered anyway:

"Deeks."

The team watched as the blond's frown deepened, something dark passing over his face. Kensi did not like the look of this. The last time he wore that expression when answering the phone, it had been Logan Banks calling about Gordon Brandel's involvement in Fay Benson's murder.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Deeks said just before hanging up, his eyes wide, clearly confused.

"What is it, Deeks?" Kensi had to ask.

"That uh…" her partner rubbed the back of his neck as his orbs met hers, "that was Viktor Kajetan, a lawyer. He—he wants me to meet his client that apparently has information on Collins' murder…" he trailed off, standing up from desk, an expression of determination crossing his features.

"And who's his client?" Kensi murmured, eyes narrowed at the tight set of his shoulders.

Deeks slowly turned on the spot, shoving his hands into his pockets, a scowl on his face.

"Oliver Bradley."

* * *

The loud clanging of chains reverberated down the corridor, edging ever nearer to the cell that Marty Deeks found himself in. He could feel Viktor Kajetan's eyes boring a hole into the back of his skull but he pointedly ignored him. He was here to see Oliver and didn't really want to waste his time with another skivvy defense lawyer if he could help it

Before his thoughts could dwindle even further, he heard the tell-tale buzzing of an electronic lock being opened and soon the clanging of chains was in the room. There, standing just visible behind a large, uniformed guard, stood Oliver Bradley, exactly how he remembered him, save for a little weight loss.

"Marty Deeks, the very man I've been waiting to see," he smiled, allowing the guard to lead him to the table and chaining him to it.

"I gotta say Oliver, you've got me curious," Deeks mused as the guard stepped away to stand outside the door.

"Tell me Marty, how is that girl of yours?" Bradley asked as if he hadn't the agent speak.

The blond's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"You know," Bradley leaned forward conspiratorially, "the girl you made that phone call to. The phone call that saved your life…" he trailed off, watching with intense eyes at the other man's subtle body language.

"She's…good," Deeks answered, "but we're not here to talk about her, Bradley. Tell me what you know about Terrance Collins' death."

Bradley leaned back as far as his restraints would allow, tilting his head, "oh come on Marty, don't leave me hangin' man. Did your girl get your voicemail? Did you guys run up to each other in the pouring rain and profess your dying love to each other?"

Deeks scowled at Bradley's teasing tone. With a shake of his head, he started to stand up from the table.

"Well, it's been nice Bradley but I kinda have better things to be doing so if you're not gonna get to the point then I'm just gonna—"

"Wait!" Bradley held one of his hands up, the chain scraping against the metal bar bolted to the table, "I'm sorry, I just—I need to get my kicks somehow. Look, I—I'll tell you what you need to know…"

Deeks chanced a glance at his watch, ever aware of his upcoming date with Kensi that was less than two hours from now. With a bite of his lip, he stared at his watch one more time before his gaze rose to meet Bradley's.

"Make it quick."

* * *

"Hey Kens, I'm on the way, I'm so sorry, Bradley is such a talker and you'll never guess what he—no, I won't ruin the surprise…I'll be home in like five minutes and I can get changed and we can go out somewhere else and—"

"Deeks…." Kensi interrupted, a smile in her tone, "it's fine, don't worry about it, I get it. I'm at your apartment; your mom and my mom have gone to the movies so…I'll just wait for you. Don't break any traffic laws on the way home. Last thing I need is hauling my ass down to the station to bail you out for resisting arrest," she finished, thankfully not sounding put out at all.

"Okay Kens, I'll see you in fifteen," he said into the phone, a little guilt still in the pit of his stomach but feeling better after hearing her voice.

After she hung up, he threw the phone onto the passenger seat in frustration. It bounced a bit but did nothing to cool his anger. He had been so looking forward to tonight, had been daydreaming since this morning about how their date would go and now as usual, a case got in the way. He loved his job, he did but this…this was Kensi. He and Kensi and their thing becoming more than a thing and this being the first step to properly acknowledging their 'more than just partners' status.

But it was not a total loss, not if he had anything to do about it. With a renewed vigour and a smile to his face, Deeks drove the rest of the way to his apartment complex with a new plan. Just because the reservations he'd made two weeks before (okay so he knew he was pushing his luck a little by only being finally brave enough to ask her out that morning but sue him, Kensi scared him a little) were now rendered useless, didn't mean that he could treat her to a nice meal, courtesy of Chef Deeks. Home-made was always better, right?

Right.

He was going to sweep her off her feet with his culinary genius. The Banoffee had been a success in the past, so there was no doubt that his savoury choices wouldn't let him down.

They couldn't.

Tonight was too important.

* * *

"Okay Kens, be prepared to have your taste buds treated to the most delicious meal you've ever—" Marty broke off his loud call as he stepped into his apartment and made his way to the kitchen only to find his partner, clad in an apron over what appeared to be a very nice, black silk blouse and pants, her hair loose over her shoulders, her feet shoved into fluffy sleepers as she held out a glass of wine for him to take.

"Way ahead of you, cowboy," she grinned, her polychrome eyes shining brightly in the candle light.

Deeks couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Close your mouth before you start drooling, Schnauzer," she rolled her eyes at him (failing to hide the blush that rose to her cheeks) "and sit down, dinner is almost ready."

Deeks did what he was told in an almost trance-like state, taking the wine from her and sitting himself down at his small, square table that was dressed with a decorative candle and the expressive silverware his mother insisted on buying him for his birthday a few years ago that had never made it out of the drawer until now.

"You…made dinner?" he gaped, still not believing his eyes as she made her way over to the oven, donning some gloves and carefully taking out a piping hot dish.

"Contrary to popular belief Deeks, I can cook," she faux-scolded with a look over her shoulder before scrunching up her nose in a way that made his heart flutter, "well, very specific things anyway," she amended as an afterthought.

He hid a grin behind his glass.

"Is this your…signature dish?" he couldn't help but ask, remembering that time nearly a year ago, when she tried to cook for that accountant guy…what was his name again? Hank? Harry? No, that wasn't it, it had something to do with the weather…

"It is," her voice spat him from his reverie, "I knew that you'd be wallowing about having to push back our…date," she paused, apparently trying that word out for size and liking the sound of it if her grin was anything to go by, "so, I decided to treat you. You've been so great to me over the last few weeks, making sure I'm eating enough and drinking fluids—"

"Which you complained about endlessly," he reminded her with a tilt of his head.

"Which I complained about endlessly," she agreed with a roll of her eyes, "but," she continued, dishing out the food onto plates, "I thought it was about time I return the favour," she finished, turning around and untying her apron, letting it flutter to the floor, revealing her little black blouse with plunging neckline in all its glory, a wolfish smirk spreading across her face.

Deeks' throat went dry.

* * *

"Oh my god, this is amazing, Kens," Deeks groaned for the fourth time in twenty minutes as he took another bite of food.

"So you've said," she replied, chuckling, the light catching her skin just right so that she looked like she was glowing.

He could look at her forever…listen to her forever…be with her forever…

After another pleasant twenty minutes of light chatter (about anything but work) and not so subtle brushing of hands, feet, anything they could reach, really, they both stood up and began clearing the plates. Deeks was suddenly struck by the overwhelming feeling of domesticity, how comfortable Kensi had become in his home, how comfortable he had become in hers and how much they enjoyed each other's company outside of work. As he bent down to put the dishes into the dishwasher and caught sight of his beautiful more-than-partner in his peripheral vision, he couldn't ignore his urge anymore. Straightening up, he stepped closer to her, watching as she stilled, her eyes still flickering brightly as they caught his, almost teasingly, as he reached up and tucked a brunette tendril behind her ear.

"Thank you for the perfect end to a not so perfect day, Kens," he whispered into her ear before brushing his lips to the edge of her mouth, smiling when she shifted a little so she could brush her lips against his.

"You're welcome, Deeks," she whispered back as they broke the kiss, her forehead resting against his cheek, "but there's more…"

Deeks' eyebrows shot up.

"More you say?" he asked, his heart-rate quickening.

"Yeah…" she trailed off teasingly before reaching behind her and thrusting something into his hands with gusto, "ice-cream!"

The blond laughed heartily at her as she quirked an eyebrow.

"What? Were you expecting something else, Agent Deeks?" she pondered faux-innocently with a bite to her lip.

Never had 'Agent Deeks' sounded so good…

"Nope," he shook his head playfully, "ice-cream and the company of Badass Blye, what more could a guy ask for?"

His partner (_more than partner!_) winked at him as she carried two bowls out of the kitchen and into the living room area, pausing only when she saw the two large objects Deeks brought home with him.

"What are those?"

The ex-detective followed her gaze, landing on a large rectangular object draped with a blanket and a small round object in a plastic bag sitting on his floor beside the door.

"Oh yeah…uh…Bradley may have given me something."

Kensi's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"No, no hey, I know it's against the rules to accept gifts, especially from prisoners but…this is only temporary until I can find him a new home in a few days," Deeks held up his hands in defense, "and neither of them were really taking no for an answer and besides…" he crossed the room, carefully picked up the round object and unravelled the bag, revealing a fish-bowl where a large, scary-looking blue fish swam.

"Look at this little guy, isn't he cute?"

Kensi stared at fish and then up at Deeks with a puzzled expression.

"Uh yeah…sure, Deeks."

He looked positively gleeful at that.

"I know, right?! Wanna help me set up the aquarium?"

Well, how could a girl say no to that?

* * *

_Present_

"So tell me again, what exactly did Bradley say to you? Word for word..."

The ex-cop continued staring at his new (temporary!) pet for a moment before turning from the tank and walking towards Kensi, folding his arms.

"He told me he knows exactly what's going on down at The National Center for Wounded Warriors...and why Mr Collins was killed..." he trailed off, reaching down for another spoonful of ice-cream from the bowl on his coffee table.

"And…?" Kensi prompted, knowing that he was getting a kick out of deliberately taking his time catching her up.

"And he told me about a doctor that worked in the clinic when he did a stint there a few months back. A Doctor Evans, who he was certain, was sleeping with one of his patients, Marlowe Green. Apparently, Terrance Collins walked in on them in a compromising position and reported the doc who was then fired. Marlowe however, is still a patient and holds quite the grudge…" he trailed off, sitting down on the couch beside her.

"So," Kensi leaned into him, their hands brushing, "you've another patient to cosy up to while undercover…"

Deeks stilled as her words sank in.

"What?" she asked, sensing something was up.

"I don't think it was the luck of the draw that I was chosen for this," he muttered under his breath.

"What do you mean?"

He could feel her puzzled glance directed at him but couldn't bring himself to look at her, not knowing if he was being stupid, paranoid or both.

"Earlier today, I came down from Ops to find Nate snooping around my desk," he trudged on, deciding to voice his theory anyway, knowing that she wouldn't judge, "and we talked a little about…about the last few months. I just—I don't think he being in Los Angeles is a happy coincidence, that's all…"

Kensi's hand covered his, interlacing their fingers, prompting the man to look at her, their gazes interlocking.

"I don't think it is either," she paused, "at first, I thought it might have to do with my shooting but…maybe it's both? He said that Hetty called them and—she said something really weird to me today that got me thinking."

That peaked Deeks' interest. An elusive Hetty was a dangerous Hetty…even if it was her default setting.

"She said…something like, she'd never keep me or you away from our jobs if she could help it," Kensi continued, her brow furrowing before her face froze altogether, eyes wide.

Sitting up, she turned her body towards Deeks fully, a look of panic crossing her features.

"You—you don't think she…you know…knows about us?"

He let that thought wash over him. If he were being honest, if anyone was to find out about them first, his money was on Hetty. But…even with all her wiles, could she detect their shift in dynamic so quickly? After all, they were only having their first date tonight.

"I—you never know with Hetty, Kensi," he opted to go with the truth, "but as long as we're careful, don't provide her with any definitive evidence, I think we'll be okay, safe from any Hetty integration."

They both visibly shivered at that idea. It was the stuff of nightmares.

Before either of them could continue, the soft sound of music began wafting through the wall. A smile broke out on Deeks face as Kensi stilled, listening intently.

"Is…is Mrs Davis playing Michael Buble?"

"Yep. She frickin' loves the guy. One Thursday every month, she comes home from her night out with the girls and puts on some Michael to help her wind down," he cooed, just before standing up and offering her his hand.

"You're not serious," she laughed but took his hand anyway, letting him help her up and wrap her in his arms, gently swaying back and forth.

"I wish it was another song, though…" she sighed into his neck as she raked a hand through his hair, "maybe you could drop by and ask her to change it?"

Deeks tilted his head back to stare blankly at her.

"And how exactly am I supposed to charm my way into a little old lady's apartment without coming across as a complete pervert?"

Kensi shrugged.

"Maybe you could dazzle her with your Margaret Thatcher impression?"

He let out a laugh, one straight from his belly, smiling widely. Only Kensi could get that kind of reaction from him. She laughed too and he spun her before pulling her gently back into his arms, staring down into her dark orbs as they flickered from his to his mouth and back again.

Slowly, he leaned down and captured her lips, the sweet taste of chocolate chip ice-cream still on them. She pressed into him, standing up on her tip-toes, her fluffy slippers shuffling across the floor as she pushed him backwards, down onto the couch. The kiss broke, Deeks staring up at her with a dazed but pensive expression on his face.

"Why so serious?" she quipped, tilting her chin down, her hands on her hips.

"Did you actually just quote The Joker?" he gaped, a sense of wonderment following through his veins.

"Uh, yeah," she shrugged.

"Okay literally, you've never been hotter to me then right now," he rasped before gently tugging her down on top of him, she straddling his waist.

She chuckled, brushing her tongue against his bottom lip as he wove one hand into her hair, the other encircling her waist. She clutched at the collar of his shirt (which he insisted on changing into when he saw her 'fancy' outfit), bunching it up in her fist, stretching its buttons.

"So..." she breathed between kisses, "how's our thing going?"

"Really?" he gasped as she found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, "you wanna talk about this now?"

"Better than you talking about…aphrodisiacs," she whispered against his skin, noticing how his pulse jumped.

"It's seduction 101," he faux-griped (his mind far too gone to mind that she was teasing his topic of discussion for over dinner) as his hand splayed on her lower back.

"Have you been reading Cosmo again?" she chuckled, her fingers pushing themselves into his shirt, popping one button, then two, then three—

"Not that I'm complaining…because I'm totally not but…is this—do you want this Kens? Right now? You're still healing and I don't want you to get—"

"I'm just giving you a teaser before the main event, Deeks…isn't that how it works? You give them a taste to get them hooked?" she cooed, clearly enjoying herself, watching him from her perch on his lap.

"How much wine have you had?" he teased her, but she merely shook her head, ignoring him.

"Just like when you first kissed me…it was like a sneak peek of what's happening right now," she smiled, pecking his lips again.

"You kissed me too," he faux-pouted, rising to meet her halfway.

"You kissed me first," she reminded him with a nip to his bottom lip.

"We've had this conversation before, Kens. You were asleep when I first kissed you so that makes it—"

"Creepy?" she suggested.

"Was it creepy when Prince Charming kissed Snow White?" he asked, both his arms wrapping around her waist, fingers brushing over the silk of her blouse.

"Yes."

"Was it creepy when Prince Charming kissed Sleeping Beauty?" he tried again.

"Yes! Wait," she paused, lifting her head to meet his eyes, "are you Prince Charming in this scenario? 'Cause I gotta say Deeks, I see you more as the frog."

"Wrong fairy tale," he nipped at her lips, drawing her into another kiss.

"Only because…" she gasped after a moment, "Prince Charming seems to get around and you—"

"Wait for my Princess?"

She stared down at him, her eyes dancing brightly in the dim light.

"Could you be any cheesier?" she laughed, running her fingers down his chest, smiling at his skin that was radiating heat.

Deeks' eyes fell closed.

"I'm gonna miss your ugly mug when you're undercover," she whispered into his ear, her breath bouncing off his cheek.

"You really know what to say to a guy, don't ya?" he mused, capturing her hand that was torturing his sensitive skin and squeezing it in his.

"So…" he began, opening his eyes and finding hers, "you wanna stay over? "You could always bunk with me," he wiggled his eyebrows, "G-rated stuff only, I swear. Or PG if you want...PG-13 at the very most," he threw her a cheeky grin as she leaned into him.

"I would hate to see you actually rate TV and movies. Because what we've been doing lately, Deeks, has definitely been a little more than PG-13. Not NC-17…yet…but somewhere in between. You'd probably rate Fatal Attraction and Basic Instinct as Parental Guidance," she rolled her eyes, flicking his earlobe.

"Yeah, yeah," he waved her off before clasping her waist and lifting her gently off him, standing up.

"But what about the ice cream?" she pouted, pointing to what was left of their chocolate chip.

"We can bring it with us," he sing-songed, taking her hand in his.

"Wow, a comfy bed and chocolate chip ice-cream?" Kensi grinned, pulling him towards his room, "now that's what I call a great date."

* * *

"You ready for this?" Kensi asked her partner the next morning as she stood in Ops, waiting for him to be admitted as a patient in The National Clinic for Wounded Warriors.

"Marty Deaton is," he murmured quietly, knowing his com could pick it up.

"Mr Deeks, you are to rendezvous with Doctor Murphy, he is going to get you settled. Ms Jones and Mr Beale are conducting comprehensive background checks and so far Doctor Murphy clears. As for the other men you met, they will be interrogated by Mr Callen and Mr Hanna today and are going to be aware of your undercover status but are prohibited to divulge it to any other members of staff or patients. Your primary focus is to be Jeremy and Marlowe…Mr Monroe will be acting as your visiting relative," Hetty trailed off, watching as Deeks entered the building and was escorted to reception.

"Roger that," came the soft reply.

"Okay," Nell mumbled to herself, tapping on her tablet, pulling files on the nurse and the councillor, "we've got Derek Reed, twenty-seven, no criminal record, lives alone, modest finances—"

"And we've got Jack Bennett, thirty-two, no criminal recor—"

"Wait, what did you say, Eric?" Kensi interrupted, crossing the room in a flash, staring at the tech-analyst.

"Uh…no criminal record?"

"No, what did you say his—"

"Mr Deaton, please follow me, I'll show you to Doctor Murphy's office," a very familiar voice on the large screens interrupted her as a tall, brunet, very familiar man with green eyes approached him, his face in a clear shot as Deeks' button recorded everything.

Kensi's heart stopped. Her blood running cold. No, it couldn't be…he couldn't be him…

She stepped closer, her dark eyes glistening as she stared up at the man who looked exactly the same as she remembered, had barely aged a day since she last seen him on Christmas Eve when she was 21 years old, just before he left her forever...

"Jack?"

* * *

**A/N: DUN, DUN, DUN! The fiancé returns! :O I know, I know, I'm so cruel with the timing. They just had their first date and Densi sexytimes is so close to finally happening and BAM! In walks Jack. Do I feel bad? Kinda. But it'll all work out readers, that I promise :D**

**NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:**

"**And I just want to watch some TV, okay? Preferably something where hot people kick bad guys' asses and everything is freaky and exciting."**

"**Supernatural?"**

"**I was thinking something more along the lines of—"**

"**Porn?"**

"**Oh my god," Deeks groused, not looking forward to another therapy session with his girlfriend's ex-fiancé and having to go along with Kensi's not-believable-at-all tactic of 'everything is okay despite my world being turned upside down.'**

**How was this his life?**


End file.
